


Spacedogs - Short Fics

by TaeAelin



Series: Adam and Nigel [1]
Category: Adam (2009), Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Affection, Angst, Banter, Bucharest, Competitive!Nigel, Emotional!Nigel, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon, Protective!Nigel, Spacedogs, True Love, Vulnerability, and a lot of silliness!, and also New York!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-05-01 07:18:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 40,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5197160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaeAelin/pseuds/TaeAelin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Nigel+Adam thingys:</p>
<p>Adam has a dream about Nigel | Nigel falls ill. Adam takes care. | Adam bakes a cake. Nigel cries. | Adam gets injured. Nigel gets protective. | Adam finds a stray. Nigel is allergic. | Nigel is haunted by his past. Adam helps. | Adam Introduces Nigel to Geocaching | Adam writes a diary entry about Nigel | Adam and Nigel play Truth or Dare | Adam and Nigel write letters to Santa | Adam and Nigel spend a night in jail | Adam plays laser tag. Nigel plays to win. | Adam pet-sits. Nigel gets jealous. | New Year’s Eve with Adam and Nigel | Adam and Nigel- Lost in London | Adam sees Nigel tipsy for the first time | Nigel gets into a fight. Adam panics. | Adam and Will in High School (au) | Adam and Nigel compete in a fun run | Adam, Nigel, and the excitement of flat tyres | Adam and Nigel watch a horror movie | Nigel asks Adam to move in | Adam calls Nigel Ni-Ni for the first time | Adam and Nigel and the time they spoke about Gabi | Adam and Nigel talk business and bad guys | Adam and Nigel’s week of clothes swapping | Nigel’s never had a bad date. Adam’s happy to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Adam has a dream about Nigel

Adam nudged his head into Nigel’s chest, his breathing slowly lengthening as Nigel chased his fingers through the younger man’s hair. The oscillating fan caused the loose strands at Adam’s forehead to flicker at every rotation, and Nigel, unaware, absentmindedly tucked them back behind Adam’s ear each time. Nigel once said he never slept with the fan on- heat and humidity were things he took for granted, and his life was devoid of such creature comforts. It wasn’t until Nigel noticed Adam hardly slept at all that fans suddenly appeared in each room of the flat. Though he never remarked on it one way or the other, Nigel certainly didn’t seemed displeased when the cooler temperature had Adam curling up to him all night.

Listening to the whirring of the mechanism, the rise and fall of Nigel’s ribcage beneath his ear, Adam was able to shelve enough thoughts to feel drowsy, and, for once, he was the first to close his eyes. When Adam opened them again, he felt greatly refreshed. It must have been an excellent sleep- he hadn’t woken up once, and the morning sun was already stretching down through the Mount Wilson Observatory tower skylight. He must have come to work very early indeed, not a single one of his colleagues was in sight. Instead, he saw Nigel casually slouched against the rail one of the viewing decks, looking at him with soft and sultry eyes. In one hand, a near-expired cigarette lounged between his fingers, the ash spindling down to the floor below.

“Nigel! I don’t think you’re allowed to smoke in here!”

Although he didn’t remember inviting Nigel to work, Adam couldn’t have been happier to see him. Nigel was full of surprises, and this was definitely a good one. Jogging over to the taller man, Adam quickly took the cigarette from his hand, extinguished it on the metal railing, and tucked the filter into his back pocket. The last thing he wanted was for Nigel to get in trouble- not that Nigel didn’t seem to bring trouble along in his own back pocket anyhow. Which, as Nigel cupped his hands to each side of Adam’s face- was exactly what Nigel seemed to have in mind.

The kiss was smooth and sharp at once, Nigel’s teeth grazing over his lower lip as he leaned down, the warmth of his mouth leaving Adam weightless and undone.

“Come here.” Adam felt the gentle tug of Nigel’s fingers between his own. He allowed himself to be led to the viewing table, where they usually spread the large-scale star charts and maps. Nigel certainly seemed to know his way around for a first visit, but this hardly surprised him either. Nigel always seemed to have a knack for figuring out the lay of the land, especially if it resulted in getting anything he happened to want.

In a single coarse movement, Nigel lifted Adam over the table, pinning him on his back and straddling him. Staring up, Nigel’s silhouette was illuminated by the bright sunlight pouring through the overhead dome, his mouth curled to a fond smirk as his fingertips made short work of Adam’s belt buckle.

“Nigel, you know we run the Wake-Up-With-Saturn tour in here every Tuesday morning-” Adam mumbled frantically, his breath catching as Nigel trailed his tongue down the arch of his stomach.

“Interesting. Maybe I can join the tour, after I’ve woken you up with-”

“NIGEL!”

Adam leapt up in alarm, his arms and legs still entwined in the sweat-soaked sheets. Pulse racing, he only realised he’d shouted quite loudly when Nigel scrambled to sit up, his face half-obscured by the dishevelled fringe of hair.

“Yes, yes! Sweetheart, it’s alright, I’m right here.” Quickly ripping Adam free of the sheets, Nigel reached for the glass of water at the bedside, his free hand running softly over Adam’s back. “Do you want to talk to me about it?”

“Yes- no- I’m so sorry, I’m okay.” Adam babbled, realising Nigel’s reaction was one of sincere concern. “I just had a funny dream about you. Not a bad one.”

“About me?” With a curious exhale, Nigel’s frown slowly turned to something more cagey. “And what was I doing in this dream?”

Scrambling to gather all the pieces before they ebbed back into his subconscious, Adam cleared his throat. “Uh- um- well. You visited me at the Observatory, and you-” he tried not to laugh as Nigel raised an eyebrow. “-did some things I wouldn’t normally do at the Observatory. Well, almost.”

“Almost? Doesn’t fucking sound like me.”

Adam pinched him at his side. “Only because I woke up.”

“Mm-hm.” Nigel coiled himself to a better position. “No need to be sorry, angel, I’m glad I’m awake too.”

Happy to feel the clasp of Nigel’s hand once again weave between his own, he was relieved to see Nigel wasn’t upset about being disturbed, though a little perplexed about why he was glad for it.

Not needing Adam to voice the question, Nigel eased him back to the mattress. “-Now I get to continue where I left-off.”

-


	2. Nigel falls ill. Adam takes care.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [miraeth](http://miraeth.tumblr.com/) also drew the most gorgeous and wonderful artwork that goes with this story, which you can see [here!](http://miraeth.tumblr.com/post/137902692117/spacedogs-tea-and-cuddles-inspired-by-this-lovely/)  
>  (*happy squealing and flailing forever and a day!!* I LOVE THIS SO SO MUCH :33 ♥♥♥)

Adam stirred to the sound of Nigel coughing- or rather, trying his best not to. Thinking it might be a good moment to stop using Nigel’s chest as a pillow, he reached for the bedside lamp, casting the bedroom in a half-awake kind of light.

“Nigel? Are you okay?”

Both hands steeped over his face, Nigel managed a brief nod, though Adam saw his eyes were watering with the effort.

“Are you sure? You really don’t sound okay.”

Nigel held his breath long enough to quirk the side of his mouth to a reassuring smile. Adam was hardly convinced. As Nigel shuffled beneath the covers, the fit seemed only to worsen, and Adam decided it was time to take matters into his own hands.

“Alright. I’m going to sit you up.”

Nigel didn’t have too long to look confused, before Adam gently wound his hands beneath Nigel’s arms, carefully pulling him upright and leaning his back against the headboard. It took another moment before Nigel relaxed, the tension draining out of his muscles as he began to breathe properly again. Raking the mess of hair back from his forehead, Nigel winced as he brushed a hand over his chest.

“Fuck. Sorry about that.”

Pinching his eyebrows to a frown, Adam still wasn’t sure what the cause of the whole thing was, but one thing was certain- it was hardly Nigel’s fault. Adam reached across the matted sheets, threading his fingers through the harder twine of Nigel’s. “You don’t have to be sorry, you couldn’t help it.”

An affectionate crease formed at the corner of Nigel’s eyes. “I mean, for waking you up.”

Adam didn’t think Nigel’s voice sounded quite the same as usual- almost as if he’d been yelling all night rather than sleeping. He wanted to ask if Nigel was okay again, but having already received a nod in the affirmative, he hesitated. Just because he was feeling worried, it didn’t mean Nigel was. Instead, Adam thought of a way to repair his more immediate concern.

“I’m going to make us some tea. With honey.”

Without waiting for an answer, Adam set off for the kitchen, busying himself with the kettle, two mugs and the box of peppermint. He had hardly got to squeezing out the honey when Nigel appeared in the doorway, slouching against the frame with some degree of curiosity.

“Can I do anything?”

“I think I’ve got it under control. Just.” Adam grinned, pleased to see this elicited a small smirk from Nigel in return. A thought suddenly dawned on him. “Nigel. How many cigarettes did you smoke today?”

Nigel blinked, then slowly spilled over into a coarse sounding chuckle. “A hell of a lot? I don’t think that’s the problem though.”

Avidly stirring both cups with a spoon, Adam didn’t miss the admission. “ _Is_  there a problem? Because you look awful.”

In Adam’s eyes, it was the kind of awful that he still found incredibly appealing, dark shadows and puffy eyes or not. Raising an eyebrow, Nigel wiped his nose on his wrist.

“Thank you.”

“Oh, it wasn’t a compliment, I meant-”

“-I know” Nigel said gently.  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” somewhat stricken, he paused, then ducked behind the door to sneeze. Looking far more watery as he peered back round, he seemed to have lost his train of thought completely. “…sorry.”

Taking a mug in each hand, Adam approached, his eyes lowering to the sweat soaking into his partner’s t-shirt. “Nigel. That’s three times you’ve apologised in the last ten minutes. Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” Handing over the cup with the most honey, he thought there was something loosely familiar in the ambiguous behaviour, which reminded him of the last time Nigel had been-

Adam came to a sudden halt. “Are you ill?”

Nigel pressed his mouth to a frown, looking vaguely fidgety as he accepted the proffered beverage. “Possibly… a little?”

Adam’s relief at being able to understand what was going on was quickly followed by apprehension. Knowing how to fix things wasn’t his strong suit, especially when the other person didn’t exactly like admitting what they would like to be fixed. “What can I do to help?”

At this Nigel looked equally perplexed. From Adam’s experience, Nigel was the kind of person who didn’t realise he was sick until he’d almost collapsed, and much less knew how to give advice on it.

“Nothing, really-” seeing Adam’s face fall in despair, Nigel rapidly redirected. “Bring me… blankets? Make me… soup?”

His tone sounded similar to when Adam tried to pronounce a foreign word for the first time. Appraising the suggestions, Adam looked him up and down.

“It’s the middle of summer and you have a fever. But if you think it would be good for you…” Seeing Nigel’s miserable expression, Adam tried to think more laterally. “Would you like to have sex on the kitchen table?”

Mid-sip, Nigel stared at him, then had to swallow before he sputtered out a laugh.

“What? I’m thinking of things that would make you feel better! You love having-”

Muffling another round of coughing, Nigel was at least looking happier than before the suggestion had been broached. “Sweetheart, I love having sex with you everywhere, always. But I can barely breathe right now, so…”

Adam started to reach for the goulash recipe.

“…maybe you could just sit with me while we drink this tea?”

Adam stopped still. That sounded like an incredibly small thing to do, when he wanted to mend the world.

“And possibly give me a hug?”

Adam titled his head to one side, slowly inching toward a lopsided smile.

“That’s all?”

“That’s… a lot.”

-


	3. Adam bakes a cake. Nigel cries.

Adam didn’t need Nigel to tell him when he was having a bad week. It would start with a few late nights, expand into numerous packets of cigarettes, and conclude with several rounds of shouting at his associates down the phone- usually in Romanian. It was one of those weeks.

Nigel never took it out on Adam. He once said business was the second most important thing in his life, and he would die before he let it interfere with the first. But while Adam appreciated the fact that Nigel never missed an episode of The Actors Studio, and still insisted on being the one to heat up the macaroni and cheese, sometimes he wished Nigel might feel okay about… not feeling okay. With him.

Which is how Adam thought of the cake.

Unlike his twin brother, Nigel didn’t have much time to cook. But Adam had never known Nigel to miss the chance to mark an occasion with baking, and placed particular significance on presentation. Nigel seemed to follow the same philosophy as purported by celebrity chefs the world over-  _first, you eat with your eyes_.

Making the cake itself had been easy. Baking was, in essence, a scientific process which relied upon following strict instructions to the letter. That Adam could do. Knowing Nigel didn’t have much of an appetite for bright colours, he skipped the rainbow-layer cake in favour of chocolate marble; which looked enticingly similar to the milky-way, but with far less gas, interstellar dust and various satellite galaxies.

The complex part came with the beep of the timer- the cake had cooled, and now it was time to decorate.  Adam could hear Nigel storming about the living room, placing another telephone call. Having already planned for this scenario, he had placed several books on salt-reduced vegetarian cuisine at an angle that would obscure Nigel’s view of the kitchen counter if he peeked inside. Adam also hoped the content of said books might discourage further snooping, if he got that far.

Violently whipping the butter, icing sugar and a teaspoon of milk into a creamy frosting, Adam applied it to the surface of the cake with the precision of a surgeon. But after that he was stuck.

“Darling, are you alright in there? I heard banging?” Nigel called, the strain in his voice echoing over the lightness of the tone.

“I’m making a salad! With lots of green vegetables!” Adam yelled back, slightly too quick off the mark.

“…alright.” Adam thought Nigel sounded a little perplexed, and waited until the brusquer conversation in Romanian recommenced before turning back to his creation. Mixing confectioners’ sugar, shortening, water, vanilla extract and cocoa, he had the formula for writing on the cake down-pat. Pulling out his pencil and notepad, he tried to think of a suitable axiom, something similar to the ones Nigel always prepared for Hannibal and Will. That always seemed to cheer Nigel up. Adam jotted down the first thing that came to his mind.

_Fuck This Cake._

Re-reading, Adam scribbled it out just as quickly, horrified. That definitely wasn’t the sort of instruction that expressed what he wanted Nigel to do at all. With greater consideration, he wrote out a second line.

_This Is a Fucking Cake_

Leaning closer, Adam wasn’t sure the phrase was particularly useful- they could both see that, after all. Hearing a string of foreign curse words that signalled the end of Nigel’s conversation, Adam realised he was out of time. Snatching up the icing tube, he scrawled out his best impression of a cake-appropriate message, finishing up just before Nigel walked in the door.

“So. Am I really in for salad tonight?” he twitched an eyebrow, somewhat amused. Adam also thought he looked somewhat exhausted.

“Not exactly. And by that I mean… not at all.”

Curious, Nigel slowly made his way to the opposite side of the counter, stopping still when he saw the finished product- a highly polished rectangle-shape, impeccable buttermilk trimming, and the most eloquent calligraphy scrawl one could hope to achieve with a paper bag and nozzle.

_Fuck You Forever._

Not thinking it so bad himself, Adam stepped back to admire his handiwork, glancing over to ask if Nigel would prefer a small or large piece. He almost dropped the icing bag in alarm. Instead of smiling, Nigel’s whole face had crumpled, and he didn’t seem able to look Adam in the eye.

“Oh my god” Adam panicked “I knew I should have just gone with  _Best Wishes!_ ”

Nigel was shaking his head, sniffling, and appearing to be in incredible pain all at once. He looked like he might say something, then glanced back at the cake and got even worse.

“I… already used up all the kitchen towels!” Adam wailed, not having thought his baking was quite as catastrophic as Nigel was making out, but then again, Nigel could be very dramatic.

Waving away the suggestion and wiping his eyes with the heels of both hands, Nigel gave a tiny jerk of his head.

“Adam, could you just… come here already?”

Aware of the need to handle the situation with care, Adam closed himself softly within Nigel’s outstretched arms, surprised when Nigel hugged back with enough force for both of them.

“Isn’t this the sort of cake you like gifting people?” Adam ventured, giving Nigel a gentle pat on the back.

“Those damn cakes I like gifting people” Nigel mumbled, his face firmly wedged in the side of Adam’s neck. He sounded like he was laughing now at least. “I love you too. Forever and a day.”

-


	4. Adam gets injured. Nigel gets protective.

Exactly half an hour after the last tour group left the observatory, Adam's phone buzzed to life. Smiling, Adam left the tripod where it stood, reaching into his pocket and taking a deep breath.

" _Well well well. Not a second too early, not a minute too late. You seem to have a knack for the expected, my friend!_ "

Nigel snorted with laughter down the other end of the line. It was a word for word repeat of a catchphrase from _Crimewave_ , which dually served the purpose of referencing their new obsession with B-grade 80's comedies, and also provided Adam with a particularly concise way of indicating he was pleased Nigel had called.

"That's the best thing about my punctuality being underestimated, darling. I get to impress you once in awhile."

"It is _not_!" Adam exclaimed, recognising that Nigel was also joking when he heard the subsequent laugh. In truth, when Nigel said he would be somewhere or do something, Adam knew not even a gang of mullet-sporting, high-waisted-jean-clad crimesters could stop him.

"I know." Nigel chuckled. "And I'm not really calling to impress you. I'm calling because I'm clingy as fuck and I miss you." 

Listening to Nigel's tone get all hard and melty at once, Adam tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder, wishing he could give Nigel a hug. Instead, he had to stay late and road test the flat field calibration frames. Which, wasn't _quite_ as exciting... but only because Nigel's hugs were very, very good.

"Would you like to hear what I'm doing?"

"Always."

"Okay." Adam squinted an eye as he reached both hands to the equipment. "Remember how I told you that aligning a twelve-inch lightbox with a telescope is actually far easier if you already have the lightbox mounted on a camera tripod? Which then gives enough flexibility to easily and accurately align the telescope with the lightbox for taking flat field images to be used when calibrating the raw images?" 

Adam paused for a gulp of air.

"It... rings a bell?" 

“ _Well_.” Adam continued, unscrewing the mounting plate, the heavy apparatus becoming more pliable with each turn. “All four internal bulbs need to be working for the correct flat fields to be obtained. So, there’s actually a little red LED visible next to each bulb, where you can easily check… sorry, just a moment-” 

The phone still wedged between his cheek and shoulder, Adam quickly reached both arms under the square frame, ready to maneuver it to the awaiting trolley. The new model was less ergonomic than the one it had replaced. But this could be easily compensated for, if he could just get his hand around… _perfect_. 

The object neatly grasped in his arms, Adam slowly turned, taking a careful step in the right direction... and straight into the leg of the tripod.

Feeling himself stagger forward, Adam quickly aimed his weight to one side, throwing his left arm behind him as the other remained firmly around the box. As he collided with the ground, the phone scattered across the floor, a sharp sting at his wrist causing him to yell out. The lightbox remained neatly clasped at his chest, no worse for the wear.

Sitting up in a panic, Adam immediately pored over the equipment, his heartbeat only slowing once he saw it undamaged. Sliding the frame gently to the floor, he reached for the phone.

“Adam? Baby?” Nigel sounded a little tense “Is everything alright? What was that sound?”

“Yes, yes, definitely alright!” Adam said hurriedly, sensing the changed intonation. “No need to worry, that was just me falling, but I didn’t break it! The plate may need realigning, but-”

“-Hold on-” It sounded like Nigel was moving around. “-I’m coming over.”

“That… may not be of much help” Adam ventured, not wanting to hurt Nigel’s feelings. “Realignments are actually sort of tricky, and-” 

“Not for the damned telescope!-”

“… _Lightbox…_ ”

“ _For_ _you_.” Nigel took a bit of a shaky breath, then made an effort to calm himself. “Can I at least give you a lift home?"

“Of course” Adam smiled. “We might have to take a taxi though. From the amount of swelling and shooting pains, I think I may have fractured my wrist, so I don’t know if I’ll be able to ride the motorbi- Nigel? What was that sound?”

“That was the sound of me slamming the door and running down the stairs” Nigel managed, somewhat strangled. “Stay there. I’ll see you in ten.”

“Nigel?” Hearing the way Nigel’s voice caught over the last syllable, Adam understood he was upset. And that was something Adam wanted to make better. “Everything will be okay, okay? I’m going to make it. We’re going to pull through.”

There was a beat of silence, then he thought he heard Nigel give a husky laugh. “Adam, is that another line from fucking _Crimewave_?” 

“Absolutely.” Adam would have to save the wink for when Nigel arrived. “But that doesn’t mean… that I don’t mean it.”

-


	5. Adam finds a stray. Nigel is allergic.

"I was thinking we could call him Hades..."

Adam looked up at Nigel, a bottle of fresh water in one hand, a small coil of fur in the other. He watches as Nigel's eyebrows raise, his mouth falling a little ajar. The expression slowly creases to the one Nigel gets after taking a particularly hard shot of liquor, all scrunchy and sour while trying his very hardest to smile.

"Baby..." he starts, his voice far gentler than the stare he was directing at the kitten. “You know stray cats are a dime a dozen throughout Romania, yes?"

Pouring out a small pool of water into the awaiting bowl, Adam wonders if Nigel is practicing his use of American colloquialisms again. While pleased Nigel seems to have a better handle on the imperial system these days, he isn't sure what that has to do with Hades.

"I mean..." Nigel knelt down, helping Adam tighten the lid back on the water bottle. "There are about twenty cats begging on every street corner. More if you have food in your pockets."

"This one wasn't begging on the street corner." Adam lowers the speckled bundle to the kitchen floor, its tiny pink tongue lapping at the liquid. "It was waiting on our doorstep."

Reaching for Nigel's hand, Adam gently guides the back of his knuckles over the scruffy fur. The kitten paused to give them both a glare.

"See? He’s really friendly."

Swiping his nose against the opposite wrist, Nigel looks very much like he wants to say something, but his mouth is somehow stuck together.

"I thought you liked pets" Adam smiles. "You're always wearing that shirt with the sausage-dogs on it."

Nigel relents to a wry smirk. "Only so people realise how goddamn dangerous I am."

Grinning, Adam shuffles around Hades in the semblance of giving Nigel a hug. As Nigel opens his arms, Adam rolls him on his back instead, using the surprise maneuver Nigel had once been so foolish to describe.

With an affectionate wink, Nigel makes a quick snatch for Adam's wrists. Wriggling free, Adam manages to straddle his legs around Nigel's waist, the heels of both hands pinning him at the shoulders.

"So what's the big deal, anyway?" Adam leans over Nigel's face, nudging the tip of his nose with his own. "Surely there's enough room for two hot-shots of the underworld in this flat."

" _Hot-shots of the underworld!_ " Nigel splutters, unable to contain a laugh. Hades does not look impressed.

Sniffling, Nigel turns to kiss Adam's hand, not making much of an effort to break free of the hold. "I don't mind pets" he admits. "I just happen to be... occasionally... allergic."

"Occasionally?" Now that Nigel mentions it, he does look a little red around the eyes. "Isn’t that a bit of an _you are or you aren't_ kind of thing?"

"Well then, I think I... might be."

"You _think_ you _might-_ "

Trying to get to the bottom of Nigel's ambiguous phrasing, Adam suddenly notices Nigel narrowing his eyes with a little more urgency.

"Adam..." Nigel seems to be trying to turn away, tapping his hand quickly at Adam's wrist. "Adam-"

Peering curiously down, Adam wondered if he was getting better at this wrestling business after all, before Nigel takes a despairing gulp of air and tries not to sneeze. The effort is, to be fair, only marginally successful.

Blinking at Nigel's rather displeased expression, Adam slowly warms to amusement. "Ohh. Maybe you _are_ allergic _._ "

"I am." Nigel interrupted, looking ever guiltier as Adam's smile only widens. "Sorry. I did try to… you know."

"Tell me? By yelling _'Adam, Adam'_? That's what you say when you're having fun!"

The corners of his mouth twitching, Nigel twists himself upright, reversing their positions in a single swift movement. Before Adam’s surprise even registers, Nigel is smiling cagily down from above.

"Is that so? Do I also happen to make this face when I'm having fun, too?" Nigel did his best impression of the expression he'd had only moments before, all weird and expectant and somewhat pained.

"Well… now that you mention it..."

With an incredulous snort, Nigel gathered both Adam's wrists in a single hand. "Right. That's it. No more easy-mode, this is the real deal."

"Thank goodness" Adam breathed, squirming as Nigel didn't give an inch. "I was really holding back on you!"

"Mm-hmm." Curving down, Nigel grazed his lower lip along Adam's neck. "Well, you have my full permission to not hold back as much as you fucking-"

Nigel trailed off, his grip slackening. Adam didn't think he'd done much in the way of disarming him, until he realised Hades had somehow crawled up to his shoulder, and was making a solid effort to nuzzle into Nigel's face. Crawling backward, Nigel looked less than accommodating.

"Aww... it’s alright." Adam plopped the kitten in his lap, giving Nigel's hand a fond squeeze. "One of the technicians at work kind of mentioned he was interested. I'll go give him a ring."

He set the kitten down at Nigel's feet, where it curled up against his socks. Walking back into the living room, Adam picked up his mobile phone, pressing each number on the screen rather slowly. Nigel appeared in the doorway.

"Looking for these?" Adam held up the tissue box, an innocent smile alongside.

Clearing his throat, Nigel gave a distracted nod. "Darling..."

Adam paused, cancelling the call before Nigel had even finished.

"Maybe... just one more day?"

-


	6. Nigel is haunted by his past. Adam helps.

Nigel wasn’t a stranger to gunfire, both ends of the pistol. But it was different when you pulled the trigger- that was something you meant to do, and, despite how it all looked in the movies, usually something you planned. Flip side, you got hit and it was over before you had time to piss yourself. So either way, it wasn’t as bad when it actually happened, as when Nigel only thought it did. Every goddamned night.

This time, he returned to the edge of the hydroelectric dam, the man screaming and crying and trussed from one ankle, swinging over the water below. He felt the backfire through his skin, the splash rippling out of synch. And then he was surrounded. And made the biggest mistake of his life.

The worst part was, he was unconscious before he felt anything. Which gave his mind permission to make it all up from scratch; piecing together every agonising blank to the hum of the emergency unit. The sound of his skull splitting apart. The warmth of blood sucking into his ears. Smiles of uncertainty- they thought he was dead. He knew they weren’t memories. But, in those months of white sheets and sterile needles, they were the only thing that felt remotely real. And possibly kept him sane.

Well. As sane as he’d ever been.

As he pulled back into the bedroom, sucking at the air like he’d never breathe again, Nigel found his hands clutching wildly at his wrists. He knew he’d been kept in security bands at the beginning, before Darko had time to work his legal technicalities through the courts, along with a fuckload of sugar. Nigel was cleared before he’d woken though, and never had the pleasure of seeing the straps removed. But, like the rest of it, it was the not-knowing that left the scar.

He was smoking on the balcony when Adam found him, the acrid warmth soothing in his chest, leaking out tension with every exhale.

“Did you have a bad dream again?”

Nigel twitched a smile. Somehow, when Adam said it, all ruffled and soft as he found Nigel’s hand… he could almost believe it was something easy- something that could just be tucked into a back pocket, not fixing to explode every time he closed his eyes.

“Not as bad as the others.”

“That’s still quite bad then” Adam confirmed, and Nigel gave a grudging flinch of his head.

“Nothing I can’t forget.” For a moment, Nigel stiffened, expecting Adam to pick up the obvious- _until the next time._

Instead, Adam simply toed a step forward, closing his arms around Nigel’s back and nuzzling gently into his collarbone. Holding the dwindling stick of ash away, Nigel immediately felt a lot less deserving.

“Maybe it’s something you’re not ready to forget” Adam suggested, his voice slightly muffled in Nigel’s shirt. “You can tell me, if you want. And then I can remember for you, so you don’t have to worry about losing it.”

“Baby, I’m not worried about losing anything.” Nigel pressed his nose into Adam’s hair, all sweet and damp and showery. “I have you. That’s all of my everything.”

“I know…” Adam’s body curved from side to side, a vague echo of the self-soothing motions he made in a panic. “But sometimes, once you hear something out loud, it doesn’t sound the same in your head anymore.”

 _Or it might cement it there for good._ Nigel frowned, scrunching the cigarette filter out on the railing and flicking it down to the pavement below. _A lot of bullshit Adam would be better off not thinking about._

Adam glanced up from beneath the mess of curls. “Were you in love?”

Nigel glared somewhere toward the skyline. He took a breath, not quite sure how to use it. Adam got there first.

“I just thought because… you said you once did something really stupid. But everyone does really stupid things, when they’re in love.”

Nigel stared down at the span of his hands, too large and rough over the fall of Adam’s cotton sleep-shirt. “You don’t.”

“I do. Though I don’t think I’m much like everyone.”

Nigel chuckled. “Well unfortunately, neither am I.” Feeling Adam shiver against his chest, Nigel prised him gently back. “So when I say I did something really stupid… what I mean is, I did something completely fucking insane. Now let’s get you back inside.”

Lips firmly pursed, Adam shook his head. “Not until you feel more okay.”

Nigel gave a soft snort. “I can manage feeling not-okay inside the flat too, believe me.”

“I once walked for three hours through a snowstorm in Manhattan to get somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be, to have a fight with the father of the girl I wasn’t supposed to be _with_ , and to ask if she would like to move across the entire country with me.”

Nigel blinked for a few moments. “Adam…”

“See? Do you feel less crazy now?”

Realising they weren’t going anywhere soon, Nigel pulled him back under the fold of his arms, only squeezing half as tight as he would have liked. “…it’s a start?”

He laughed as Adam pinched him at the waist.

“It seemed like a very good idea at the time.”

Nigel shook his head to a smirk. “Darling, this is me. It _still_ sounds like a fucking good idea.”

Satisfied, Adam squashed himself closer against Nigel’s ribcage, keeping his arms curled up between them this time. Nigel suddenly realised he was doing the soothing-rocking thing too. Jesus. Adam didn’t seem to mind.

“So, do you feel any more like telling me now?”

“I feel more like… wanting to feel like telling you. And one day I will, Adam, I promise.” He wasn’t quite ready to break himself apart just yet, seeing the light fade in Adam’s eyes. “But right now, I’ll settle for it not sounding the same in my head anymore. Just for tonight.”

-


	7. Adam Introduces Nigel to Geocaching

“So, how do we win?”

Adam glanced up from the cell phone app, Nigel already halfway over his shoulder.

“It’s not so much a _winning_ thing… more of a _collecting_ thing…”

“But there are prizes” Nigel confirmed, eyes scouring the blinking map signature.

“…not exactly…”

“But it _is_ a competition.”

A slow smile spread across Adam’s face. “Nigel… I think we need to start again from the top.”

In truth, Adam wasn’t surprised Nigel wasn’t catching on. He’d hardly stopped talking since the notification for a new Geocache in Central Park had appeared, and that was just the background information on satellites, selective availability and the Global Positioning System. But when Adam thought about it… he really just wanted Nigel to share his excitement for a treasure hunt.

“Do you see this blinking dot?” Adam pointed to the beacon in the middle of the phone screen. “That shows roughly where somebody has hidden a cache. The tracking notes also include the degrees of longitude and latitude, in case we wish to locate it with the use of a compass.”

“I’ll… remember to bring one?”

“No need” Adam continued, pulling out the prismatic compass he had ready for any such occasion.

“And when we get there…?”

“We sign the log book, so don’t forget a pen, and then we exchange an item inside the cache for one of our own. I mean… if there are any items. There may not be.”

“Why not?” Nigel turned the compass cautiously in his palm, looking no less wary than if Adam had handed him live ammunition.

“Because-” threading his fingers between Nigel’s, Adam gently tugged him toward the front door. “This was only just posted. We may be the very first to find it.”

-

Holding the phone in his free hand, Nigel had to lengthen his pace to keep up, directing his conversation toward the bouncing hood of Adam’s jacket. “But why is this cache called _‘Space Invaders’_?”

“All Geocaches have names.” Glancing happily over his shoulder, a soft curl of fog escaped Adam’s lips. “Sometimes the name relates to the concealed location, sort of like a cryptic clue. But in this case… I think it has to do with what we’ll find.”

“Because extra-terrestrial life is basically the only thing Central Park _doesn’t_ have?” Shaking his head, Nigel gave an apologetic smirk. “Sorry. I think I need more coffee.”

Giving the suggestion due consideration, Adam frowned. “That, and I also already applied seventeen different cipher-decoding algorithms on the name, and none revealed any more pertinent information.”

Nigel looked rather longingly at the all-too-far-away expresso cart. “…Oh.”

-

Despite a strong start, Central Park was hardly a small place, and their trajectory ended squarely at the edge of Belvedere Lake. Adam had searched the surrounding bushes, crawled under all the benches and even attracted a few curious stares by making a thorough examination of the bicycle rack.

He could see Nigel shuffling from one foot to the other, clearing his throat more than he probably meant to. To be fair, Nigel had made a solid effort to help, but after Adam had explained that Geocaches were not allowed to be buried or stashed at the top of a tree, he was out of ideas. And the sun was going down.

With a last inspection of the nearest trash cans, Adam gave a wince of defeat. All the paddleboats had been moored back at the lake hiring station, the last of the weekenders trailing out toward restaurants and brighter lights.

“I’m sorry, baby” Nigel muttered. “I can’t find half my fucking stuff in my own drawer, not exactly surprised I can’t-”

“ _Excuse me_ ”

Looking up, Adam saw a young couple, a free city-exploration map clutched between them.

“You guys wouldn’t happen to know if this is Belvedere Lake? We’ve just come from Bonfire Rock, and-”

“It isn’t.” Nigel interrupted. Adam noticed he suddenly seemed to be gripping Adam’s hand rather tightly. “That’d be completely the opposite direction. Back where you came from.”

A peel of embarrassed laughter rang between the two strangers, and with several motions of thanks, they hurried the other way.

“ _Nigel!_ ” Adam whispered, astounded. “I think you may have just told a _lie_ , this is _definitely_ -”

“ _They’re hunting the Geocache_.” Nigel hissed, his eyes significantly wilder than in the minutes previous. “Adam, give me that phone again.”

Adam had barely fumbled it from his pocket before Nigel was striding back to the lake with no degree of subtlety. “You said X marks the spot?”

“It’s only an approximation…”

Glaring into the water, Nigel stopped when he noticed an orange buoy previously obscured amongst the paddle-boaters.

“Oh my gosh” Adam breathed. “Of course. The terrain difficulty level was five stars… I should have realised.” Swallowing a mix of anguish and disappointment, he couldn’t help be proud of Nigel for figuring it out. “We’ll have to come back, these boats are booked days in advance, even in low season. I just really appreciate that you came with- _Nigel, what are you doing?_ ”

“Stay there!” Nigel shouted, one foot in the freezing murk, shoes and trousers and all. “You said you wanted to be the first. So we’re going to be the first.”

“Nigel!” Adam wasn’t sure whether to be amused or alarmed. “You can’t just storm through the lake, they have security patrol round here you know!”

“Good” Nigel yelled back “Maybe they can bring me a fucking boat!”

The water only reaching his waist, Nigel ploughed forward as if a trail of Geohunters, security and the rest of New York City were already on his heels. After a brief skirmish with the awaiting buoy, Adam saw him raise a fist victoriously, a waterproof container strung alongside.

“ _We’re the goddamn fucking first all right!_ ”

Adam had never heard him sound so triumphant, nor so horrified in the echo that followed.

“ _Oh shit,_ _Adam, I forgot the fucking pen!_ ”

A grin spreading over his face, Adam could barely stop laughing long enough to respond. “It doesn’t matter!” he managed, waving. “Just put something in the cache for the next person. And please come back here now!”

Adam wasn’t sure Belvedere Lake had ever been treated to such an assortment of Romanian curse words, but by the time Nigel flopped exhausted on the bank, he looked strangely happy regardless.

“Nobody will know we won...” Nigel mumbled into Adam’s jacket, trying to balance a hug with keeping his wet clothes clear.

“But I know” Adam shuffled tighter regardless. “We know.”

Nigel lay back against the grass, his fingers firmly wound between Adam’s.

“What did you leave behind?”

“Soggy cigarette” Nigel chuckled. “Someone might need it after all that.” He kissed Adam’s knuckles. “Got you something though.”

Adam stared at him, surprised. “There was something in there?”

Nigel pressed a tiny metal object into his palm, looking vaguely hopeful. Holding it up to catch the moonlight, Adam’s mouth slowly dropped.

“It’s an Intel 8080 8-bit microprocessor” he whispered, squeezing Nigel’s hand like he would never let go. “Released in 1974. It’s what helped make the hardware fast enough to run the graphics…”

“The hardware?”

“For the video arcade game” Adam leaned in, his face nestled in Nigel’s neck. “ _Space Invaders._ ”

With his arms around Adam and his eyes on the sky, Nigel smiled back.

-


	8. Adam writes a diary entry about Nigel

_21 November 2015, 7:41am_

Eight hours ago, I was on a plane very much like this one. It was operated by the same carrier (United Airlines), was almost the same size (an airbus is typically 208ft 11in length, with a height of 55ft 3in, wing span 197ft 10in, but the cabin width is still a max of 17ft 4in regardless of variants), with the same selection of films and the same refreshment choices. I was on my way to another country (it was Romania, but only for a stopover), and I was very nervous because I wasn’t sure what would happen when I arrived. More to the point, I wasn’t sure if everything I had planned to happen would actually happen. I remember feeling very squished, mostly because airline seats are a bit close together, but I generally find that gets better if you sit very straight and also don’t move.

For this particular flight, I’m also on my way to another country (the United States of America), but not technically on my way home. Because my home is in California, and I’m actually getting off in New York. Which also relates to why I am still just as squished this time around, despite the fact I was upgraded to Business Class. (On that point, I was also assigned a window seat, which I now realise is a far superior position for viewing cirrocumulus stratiformis cloud formations over the horizon than when I tried to lean across several other passengers on the way in). I also happen to be travelling with a new companion, who is very  _very_  dissimilar to anyone I have ever sat next to on a United Airlines flight, or indeed, anyone I have sat next to ever before. I met him yesterday evening in Bucharest, and we haven’t really left each other’s side since. Him more so than me, because he is currently using my shoulder as a pillow. And he is very tall. And also heavy. Hence my being ever so slightly squished. But it’s… a good kind of squished. His name is Nigel.

 _Note to self:_ if there is a crinkle in this page later, it is because Chris the Flight Attendant just accidentally spilled some lemon soda as he was passing me the cup. We were trying to be careful and not wake Nigel, which meant I had to raise my left arm at an odd angle, and he had to reach  _his_  arm at an even more odd angle, and the position of this diary did not fit well within either of our odd angles, and is now a little more sticky and citrusy as a result.

As I was saying, his name is Nigel, and he is Romanian, so he is not going home either. And the reason he is sleeping isn’t because he doesn’t like clouds, or the drinks service (he already told me he does, so I have saved him both packets of nuts from the first time they came round, and the pretzels from this time), I think he’s just exhausted from showing me the best parts of his city all night long. And… maybe possibly exhausted from showing me some other things too. And by that I mean the unforgettable sexual intercourse we had at  _Amiral Vasile Urseanu_ , the Bucharest Astronomic Observatory.

But that isn’t why I think Nigel is wonderful. He is unforgettable just by himself. Even when he’s awake, Nigel isn’t much of a talker. Or rather, he’s not an  _unnecessary_  talker. When Nigel says something, I get the feeling that he always means it. And, when he doesn’t say something, he  _does_  something, to show it instead. That’s why Nigel’s here, actually. He never told me he didn’t want to leave me, or that he was coming too. But he didn’t, and so… he came.

And, while it’s only been thirty-three minutes since take-off, he hasn’t left yet. And though his hair is tickling my face and my arm is sort of completely numb, I’m not moving either. We have eleven hours and forty-seven minutes left till we land. And since I originally planned to disembark in California, I don’t even have a taxi booked, or know where we’re going to stay. But this time, I’m not nervous. This time… I’m excited.


	9. Adam and Nigel play Truth or Dare

"You've never heard of it?" Nigel sat forward in the bathtub, causing half the bubbles to wash over to Adam's side. "I mean, I can understand if you never played as a kid, but you've never _heard_ of it?

"I have never heard of it" Adam confirmed, smiling at the familiar incredulous expression. Like rollerblading, sneaking into cemeteries and creating home-made and highly illegal fireworks, Adam could happily add truth or dare to the list of essential childhood experiences that had apparently eluded him. "But you can explain it to me?"

His mouth twitching at the corners, Nigel looked like he'd just discovered a second toffee stuck to the back of the first. "I'll do you one better. Ask me the name of the game."

"You mean _truth or dare_?"

Pulling his hand up from the water, Nigel mimed a gunshot, winking and pulling the trigger. "Bingo. If I say 'dare', ask me to do something I might not normally do. If I say 'truth', you get to ask me one question, and I have to answer with complete honesty."

"But you always answer everything with complete honesty." Adam tilted his head to one side, watching Nigel's nose scrunch-up a little as he plopped his hand back under the surface.

"...Right. Yes. Should be easy then. Truth."

"Okay." Adam wriggled his legs up against the side of Nigel's, giving an affectionate nudge with his knees. "Um. What are you-" he glanced around the bathroom for inspiration, travelling from their toothbrushes, to Nigel's cologne, to the hair comb, and finally a very large can of shaving cream. Nigel looked increasingly worried with each object. "-thinking right now?"

Nigel relaxed into a smirk. "I'm thinking about all the questions I'm relieved you didn't ask! My turn. Truth or dare?"

Adam tipped his head back, the warm water soaking into his ears. This was fun. "Truth?"

Shuffling down in the tub so that the suds lapped around his neck, Nigel didn't even need a pause to come up with one. "What's your favourite outfit of mine?"

"Pajamas!" Adam yelled, brimming to a smile. "They make you look all cute and sleepy, even when you're not." Seeing Nigel raise a wry eyebrow, he grinned even more. "Truth or dare?"

"I'll take a dare."

"Great." Adam still found himself stuck for ideas, slowly inspecting the bottles at the side of the bath for some kind of clue. "I dare you to... wash my hair?"

Nigel gave a fond scoff. "You're making this way too easy on me. Turn around."

Happy to oblige, Adam rearranged himself to face the opposite direction while Nigel squirted a generous puddle of shampoo into his hand. Adam didn't mind. Though a little firm, Nigel's fingers made his whole body tingle as they spread over his scalp, and for a moment Adam completely forgot he was supposed to be answering a question.

Chuckling, Nigel leant forward to kiss his neck. "I said, I'm going to ask you a truth, so I can do this a little longer." As Nigel massaged back and forth from his hairline, Adam wasn't going to disagree. "What's the craziest dream you've ever had about me?"

Twisting over his shoulder, Adam stared Nigel up and down. "Nigel! That's a tough one!"

"Is it?" Nigel looked rather surprised. "How many have there been?"

Adam gave a guilty laugh. "How many nights since I moved in? I'm joking, I'm joking!" he added, seeing Nigel's eyebrows disappear under his wet hair. "But still, I mean... quite a few." Pinching his eyelids shut, Adam decided the logical place to start was the most recent. "Well, last night I had one about visiting you at your nightclub." 

"Mmm?"

"And I walked in, and saw you dancing on that really long platform-stage thingy, the one where everyone pushes to get to the front and throws money. It was a really good dance. Very masculine. Lots of leg movement."

Nigel stopped washing his hair. Another glance confirmed he now looked like he’d swallowed a box of toffees whole, sort of a mix of horrified and tongue-tied.

"What I'm trying to say is, it was really sexy!" Adam found himself a tiny bit excited just remembering it. "Darko thought so too." 

" _Darko_ thought so?"

"In the dream" Adam nodded solemnly. "Don't tell him I said that though!"

The sound Nigel made fell ambiguously between between a laugh and a cough. "Fucking christ, Adam, the point where I'd stop retelling this conversation ended around the time I suggested we take a bubble bath and play truth or dare.” Definitely laughing now, Nigel cupped his hands full of water to help rinse Adam's hair. "Believe me, Darko wouldn't hear this if he hung me upside down and whipped me."

"Good" Adam grinned. "Because that actually reminds me of _another_ dream I had about you both-"

"Ah, ahhgh, that would be the sound of my turn!" Nigel loudly interrupted. Adam gave him a playful splash in answer.

"Alright, I'm going to give you a dare though." Holding up a finger, Adam took a deep breath and ducked under the water, washing the remaining shampoo from his fringe while he thought of it. Nigel was still waiting with the same curious expression when he emerged. "I dare you to go get into your pajamas and lie on the bed."

Blinking, Nigel turned his mouth at the corners. "So I can look all cute and sleepy?"

"No..." Adam stood up, reaching to hand Nigel a towel. "Because I know you don't have these funny dreams. So... I'm going to give you one. While you're still awake."

Nigel stood rather still for a moment, dripping water onto the tiles, the towel still held outstretched in his hand. "Similar to... the dream you just told me about?"

"Is that a truth?"

Nigel made a vague attempt to dry himself, somewhat distracted by Adam doing the same. He finally managed a coy smirk. "Can it be a dare?"

-


	10. Adam and Nigel write letters to Santa

Adam unwrapped the leather jacket, horrified. He had ordered it from a reputable online store weeks in advance. Except now that it had arrived, weeks late, it was clear he had ordered the wrong size. Or they had shipped the wrong size. Or ‘medium to large’ meant something different in continental Europe. Because this was definitely _his_ size, or Nigel’s, if Nigel never wanted to move his arms again.

Stuffing the item to the back of his side of the closet, Adam saw he was rapidly running out of space. Other unsuitable gifts that had so far arrived included a faulty sports watch, a bottle of aged whiskey that he had managed to drop, some cigars that might later necessitate the whole wardrobe being ventilated, and a new pocketknife that Adam afterward realised could well have got him arrested for importing. It wasn’t a good start to his Christmas shopping. Or a good middle, or a good end. And now he was running out of time.

“ _Adam?_ ” Nigel was yelling from the kitchen. “ _One marshmallow or two?_ ”

“Five, please!” Adam shut the wardrobe in alarm. If he’d been good with his hands, like Nigel, he would have liked to have a go at making something from scratch. Maybe a new spice rack, or a tool box, or one of the countless other useful implements he had seen on _DIY Daredevil_ , one of the only television series about daredevils that Nigel still refused to watch.

Unfortunately, Adam’s last attempt at any such devilry had ended with both palms superglued to a holiday stocking, which Nigel had found rather amusing until Adam pointed out the stocking would most likely be coming to bed with them, and his hands would therefore remain occupied until further notice. Nigel had never googled home-remedies quicker.

“I know it’s my first time making eggnog” Nigel popped his head round the corner, the mug with five marshmallows held roughly in his hand. “But you’re going to have to take the plunge some time.”

“Right, right.” Adam gave a guilty laugh, trying his very best not to glance back at the closet. “Thank you.”

Nigel gave him a strange look, pacing back to the kitchen and clearing his throat. “I was thinking…”

Adam blinked. The eggnog really was very good.

“This year, how about we write letters to Santa?”

His mouth falling ajar, Adam looked at Nigel in dismay, then slowly set his drink down. It was definitely possible that Nigel was going to need a hug after this.

“Nigel, I am so sorry.” Adam kept his voice light, reassuring. “Santa… isn’t actually a real person.”

Snorting into his own mug, Nigel seemed surprisingly okay with the news, all smirking and choking at once. “Alright. How about we do it just for fun then?”

“For fun?”

“Yes, Adam, fun. I mean, I didn’t build that snow-mansion outside because I thought Santa needed to house his fucking reindeer while visiting the neighborhood, did I? I built it for fun.”

“I thought you built it because the couple next door built one, and now theirs looks really tiny in comparison to ours.”

“Exactly. Fun.” 

Nigel seemed very determined on the matter, rummaging through the kitchen drawers to find pencils and a pile of blank recipe cards. “See? I’m already writing mine.”

Peering over Nigel’s shoulder, Adam was keen for a clue on the proper way to address someone who didn’t exist. He wasn’t getting very far.

“Nigel… what is that?”

Stopping what he was doing, Nigel raised an eyebrow. “My handwriting?”

“I don’t think Santa’s going to know what you want from that. Unless you want another set of blank recipe cards, after scribbling all over these ones-”

Squealing, Adam jumped back from the counter as Nigel pulled him into a surprise hug, chuckling all the while. “Just write the damn letter, gorgeous. No fucking peeking until I’m done.”

Adam got to work. And Nigel seemed to be penciling more carefully this time too. When Adam had finished, there were more varieties of telescopes, lenses, eyepieces and tripods listed in front of him than he suspected were stored at the Observatory. He hadn’t been sure exactly what models a mythical gift-giving entity might be able to obtain at such short notice, so he thought it best to cover all bases. Nigel’s letter appeared very short. He only used one card, and promptly folded in two, striding over and setting it on the mantelpiece.

Collecting his own substantial handful, Adam placed them neatly beside, still rather perplexed by the whole affair. Nigel leant down to kiss him at the side of his mouth.

“Back in a sec. Most of the eggnog’s still stuck to the saucepan.”

Adam looked at Nigel’s card. Then at Nigel, bent furiously over the sink. Then back to the card.

Well, Nigel did say the fucking peeking couldn’t commence until he was _done_ …

Gently lifting the card from its position, Adam un-creased it in the middle, frowning over Nigel’s sweeping italic.

_Dear Santa._ _Apologies for the electric fireplace, new city safety legislations. Fucking killjoys. About the gift. Nothing this year, I already have Adam. Or we could go traditional, and I’ll take a piece of coal. But I don’t have a real fucking fireplace to use it in, do I? No, nothing, thanks. I already have everything._ _Cheers, Nigel._

Walking blurrily toward the kitchen, Adam took the half-scrubbed saucepan from Nigel’s hand. “I’ll finish that for you later. Can you come outside?”

“Hm?” Nigel sounded slightly nervous, somewhat hopeful.

“It snowed again this morning” Adam explained. “So I thought I could help you… you know… build a second moat and drawbridge for the snow-mansion. You know the neighbours are already re-doing theirs. Or, maybe I could draw up some plans for an adjacent cathedral. Or a forest. We could do a little bit every day, until Christmas…”

With the most crooked of smiles and the quickest of shoe-putting-on maneuvers, Nigel was at the front door before Adam had even finished. “Is this because of my letter?”

“Of course.” Adam stood on tiptoe to reach Nigel’s mouth, kissing him back this time. “But also… just for fun.”

-


	11. Adam and Nigel spend a night in jail

"He tried to fucking _roll you_."

His face set to a scowl, Nigel commenced his seventh lap round the overnight holding cell. Adam wasn't sure there was much else to observe after the other six times, but if it lessened the chance of Nigel trying to put his fist through the wall again... 

"It's just money, Ni-Ni." Adam crossed his legs beneath him, the seating bench a bit difficult to get comfy on. "I have more, in the bank."

"That arrogant little prick..." Nigel’s eyebrows were pinching downwards again. Adam didn't like the wall's chances. "Right under my goddamn nose..."

Adam decided he might need a different tact. "Nigel..." he waited until the pacing came to a halt. "Are you sure you're upset about the pickpocket? Or... are you upset because someone tried to put their hand down my pants?"

Nigel stared back, his face suddenly crumpling before he covered it with both palms, leaning down toward his knees.

"Sorry!" Adam jumped up from the bench. "That was supposed to be a joke! You know, because to pick someone’s pocket, you have to-”

“I know, Adam.” Nigel slumped against the wall opposite, a good deal less punchy, a lot more like he wanted to sink right through it. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Nigel didn’t look like he was going to straighten-up any time soon, so Adam made his way over, venturing an arm over Nigel’s back. He wasn’t usually so easy to reach. To Adam’s surprise, Nigel only stiffened momentarily, then let his head fall against Adam’s shoulder, suddenly all heavy and droopy.

“It’s alright…” Adam murmured, nudging him toward the bench. “You got the wallet back. So he got away. The important thing is, no one got hurt.”

“I got us in _fucking jail_ ” Nigel spat, his face still firmly wedged halfway between Adam’s neck and chest.

Adam nodded, then decided a pat on the back might be the better option. He thought the whole jailing process had been quite orderly, actually. All clearly explained, very formal. The cell was quiet and empty, and they would be out in the morning. While Adam found this all a reassurance, he had also picked up a great number of Romanian colloquialisms for various authority figures over the last hour. Which told him Nigel might not be feeling the same.

“So? It’s just another… new experience.” He tried to put a lighter inflection on the words, like when Nigel suggested Adam try a bite of something different off his plate. “And later we can tell stories about how we… uh…” Adam glanced around, trying to think of something more entertaining than four concrete walls. “…spent the night in jail?”

Nigel jerked his head away, his mouth all uneven, his eyes much too watery. “Adam, can you fucking stop trying to make me feel better? _I got you in jail._ This isn’t a new experience for me. But it sure isn’t one you deserve, or something I should have fucking let happen to you.” Nigel pulled himself along the bench, glaring up into the light-bulb like he was trying to think about something. Or trying not to.

“Ni…” Adam shuffled a bit closer. Nigel’s fingers were trembling a bit, which tended to happen when he couldn’t smoke for awhile. “It isn’t something you _let_ happen. It’s just something that happened. Actually, I’m glad.”

Nigel narrowed his eyes, which might have looked a little more menacing had he not been wiping his nose at the same time.

“I’m glad because, even though you just said it isn’t your first time, um…” Adam watched Nigel acknowledge it with a curt nod. “…you seem to be…”

“…a fucking mess?”

“Maybe in need of a few coping strategies?”

Adam blinked. Nigel frowned. “Coping strategies.”

Not waiting for a second guess, Adam crawled behind him on the bench, placing both hands on Nigel’s stomach.

“You could start by breathing… more…” Adam nudged the spot just below Nigel’s ribcage. “…into here?”

For a second, Adam thought Nigel had misunderstood the instruction, he seemed to be holding his breath completely. But then, slowly, Nigel exhaled, soft and malleable beneath Adam’s touch.

Adam smiled. “Better. Now, again…”

Focusing on the exercise, Adam barely noticed the sound of footsteps approaching until they were right outside the cell. The officer unlocked the door, paperwork in hand. He cocked his head at Nigel, Adam’s palms still against his waist. Nigel didn’t move an inch.

“Alright you two. We’ve had a couple of witnesses come forward, looks like there was a misunderstanding. Next time-“ he gave Nigel a more deliberate stare “-don’t try to be a hero.”

Nigel bristled. “I wasn’t-“

“Thank goodness it’s all cleared up!” Adam interrupted loudly. “Shall we sign those…” he squinted at the outstretched release forms “…leaflets?”

It wasn’t till the precinct was well behind them that Nigel relaxed his pace. Still grimacing toward the horizon, his fingers gently wound between Adam’s. Adam gave the hand a squeeze in return.

“I know we missed our dinner reservation…” Adam started. “But the dessert place on the corner’s still open. The one where they have that thing with the ice-cream and five bananas. It would be like we just…um… skipped to the best bit?”

Nigel wasn’t looking at him again. From the way he was gripping Adam’s hand, Adam could only hope it was a happier not-looking this time. And Nigel _was_ veering toward the suggested sundae-bar.

“Adam…” One side of Nigel’s mouth hooked upward at the corner. It almost looked like a smile. A very, very small one. “You’re the best bit.”

-


	12. Adam plays laser tag. Nigel plays to win.

“It’s supposed to be a fun thing. Like… a colleague bonding thing. Like bowling.”

Scrunching his nose as he took a sip of burnt coffee, Nigel peered cautiously at the outstretched invitation in Adam’s hand. “Bowling’s supposed to be a fun thing?”

Adam giggled. “I guess so. It’d be fun if you ever did it with me, at least.”

With his best effort not to smirk, Nigel gave a twitch of his head. “Never going to happen.”

“Lucky this isn’t bowling then.”

Setting the mug back on the kitchen table, Nigel felt almost everything sounded like bowling before his fifth cigarette of the morning. Taking the leaflet, he took a closer pass.

_Mount Wilson Observatory Staff Christmas Event- bring a plus-one, and your team spirit!_

Glancing at Adam’s nervous smile, Nigel tried to conceal his look of dread by taking another sip of coffee. It only made things worse.

_Line up your sights for the most extreme of indoor sports- Black Ops Laser Tag! All equipment provided, BYO mission tactics!_

Nigel snorted. “And BYO time machine, since we’re obviously heading back to the 90’s.”

Adam blinked at him in confusion, not quite sure Nigel had understood the instructions.

Inwardly snapping at himself, Nigel reached for Adam’s hand. “I’m being awful. If you want me to run around and shoot your colleagues, I really don’t have to be playing laser tag-” seeing Adam reaching to pinch him in the ticklish spot, Nigel quickly redirected “- what I mean is, bowling, laser tag, fucking mountaineering… whatever you want, baby-” Nigel spread his arms. “-I’m in.”

Taking a sip from his own mug, Adam had to pinch his nose to keep from spitting the drink back out again. “Nigel, this coffee is terrible. I must have left it in too long! Why didn’t you tell me?”

Relieved to finally push his aside, Nigel gave him a coy wink. “Recurring death-wish tendencies?”

“ _Nigel_ -”

“Sorry, sorry-” chuckling, Nigel held up both hands. “-I’m going to the balcony for a cigarette.”

“Well then you obviously _do_ have recurring death-wish tendencies” Adam muttered. Once Nigel was out of earshot, he replayed the rest of Nigel’s earlier comment. Mountaineering didn’t sound so bad, now that he thought about it…

-

Walking hand in hand through the Laser Tag meeting area, Nigel could feel Adam growing more fidgety with each step.

“Nigel…”

“Yes, gorgeous?”

“I just wanted to remind you… you know…”

Nigel raised an eyebrow.

“Not to get… too competitive.”

Both corners of his mouth curving slowly upward, Nigel pulled Adam gently against his side. “Darling. Since when is there such a thing as _‘too competitive’_?”

“Adam! And… Nigel!” A man in a pale shirt and sneakers ran over to greet them. From the handwritten sticker plastered on his chest, Nigel surmised his name was Tom The Destroyer. “So glad you could make it! Come on over, the briefing’s just started.”

Following a couple of steps behind, Nigel curled his lip. “Make sure he’s not on our team”

“Why? Tom’s really great.”

“White shirt, reflective strips on his running shoes. Under a blacklight, he’ll glow like Rudolph. Might as well set off some flares and homing devices while we’re at it.”

“Please tell me you didn’t actually bring any though” Adam tugged Nigel’s hand rather nervously.

Nigel couldn’t keep a straight face. “Must have left them in the car.”

-

The game sounded simple enough. Split into two teams. Charge your weapon at home base. Divide and regroup as necessary. And… try not to get hit.

As the coordinator handed out the vests, Nigel was surprised to see Adam reaching for two of the most worn. There weren’t many in a comparably poor condition, and Nigel guessed the facility had dipped into the reserve stock to accommodate such a large group. Before he could ask, Adam was already pulling him aside.

“If the internal mechanics governing these vests are anything similar to the program code of electronic toys” he whispered. “The sensors will deteriorate with age, making the probability of a digital tag registering significantly lower in the older issues.”

Nigel was pretty sure he understood, but just to make absolutely certain…

“So what you’re saying is, someone might technically hit us with the laser gun, and the vest might not record it properly?”

“I’m saying there’s an increased probability of that occurring, yes.”

Nigel clipped his vest over his torso, gazing at Adam with something close to pride.

“Okey-dokey guys, here are your weapons, you’ll be on Team Eclipse with me!” Another smiling colleague and sticky label, this one said ‘Emily’.

With a curt nod, Nigel accepted his laser gun, and promptly took hers too. Firing at the wall, Nigel walked slowly backward, watching to see whether the dot moved significantly. When it didn’t, Nigel flipped the handle round and handed it back. “Best to test your sights ahead of the event” he explained, repeating the procedure with his and Adan’s guns.

For a moment, Adam thought Emily looked a little surprised. But then she grinned, thrusting a friendly elbow in to Nigel’s arm. “Thanks! Glad someone’s done this before!”

As they entered the indoor arena, Nigel slipped an arm around Adam’s waist. “When the group disperses, we need to look for positions that cover our back, and give us a clear view over the area. Corners are a bad choice. Low walls are a good one.”

With only a quick glance over the map at home base, Adam had already committed the entire layout of the terrain to memory. And then the countdown began. Looking from his jittery colleagues, grinning and knuckle-bumping round the circle; to Nigel, poised and fixated on the recharge beacon… Adam couldn’t help feel excited. The starting tone wailed. And then everything went dark.

-

The blacklights flickered, and in an instant, the neon outlines of every shape and structure within the arena came alive. Adam and Nigel were last at the recharge station, Nigel covering the door while Adam watched the energy bar on the side of his laser gun slowly reach the maximum.

“Stay behind me” Nigel muttered, his face suddenly very serious as they tracked through the arena. All shadowed and echoing sound-effects, it seemed a lot larger in reality than it had as a diagram on the wall. Noticing a good deal of fluorescent wire wrapped around the fake trees for effect, Adam couldn’t help wonder if that wasn’t an occupational health and safety hazard waiting to happen.

They hadn’t jogged more than ten steps before Tom The Destroyer leapt from behind a wall, his glaring white shirt and sport logos racing toward them with all the ferocity of an oncoming truck.

“GET DOWN!” Nigel bellowed, shoving Adam out of the firing line whilst throwing himself forward in what looked like a very strange drop-roll. Adam was so surprised he barely remembered to take cover, Tom looked so surprised that he forgot to shoot.

Nigel didn’t forget to shoot. Tom’s vest had registered fourteen rapid fire hits before he scrambled in the opposite direction, an alarmed glance over his shoulder before he disappeared behind some spiky pink rock formations. Adam looked down at his gun in surprise. He hadn’t realised the equipment could be so accurate.

“Here” Nigel said gently, crouching beside. He raised Adam’s arm up in front of him, repositioning his grip ever so slightly. Steadying Adam with a hand at his back, Nigel slowly drew a line through the air, starting at Adam’s right eye, and tracing over to the front of the weapon. “The trick is to make sure you're looking and pointing at the same thing. Not as easy as it sounds, I know. But it's a start."

Taking the lead once again, Nigel decided a commando crawl was the best way to move through the territory unseen. Tucking his gun into the back of his jeans, Adam followed suit, occasionally shuffling up beside to give directions. When they arrived at a particularly advantageous bend of plastic foliage, Nigel motioned with his hand for them to slow down. They were not alone.

Straining to catch the murmuring in between the atmospheric forest soundscape, Adam could just make out a familiar voice. Mouthing the word “Tom” to Nigel, he couldn’t believe his bad luck on crossing the man’s path twice in a row. He was going to think Adam had it in for him. Nigel seemed to think just the opposite, looking rather like he’d just had his birthday and Halloween in one. About to make a move, Adam suddenly gave Nigel a sharp squeeze at the arm. He recognised the other voice too. And probably shouldn’t have.

_Emily_.

“ _This is very naughty of us, Tom!_ ” Adam could hear giggling. “ _Kissing in the mailroom is one thing, but sabotaging my own team at laser tag? You’re gonna owe me, big time!_ ”

“ _I think I’ll find a way to make it up to you_ ” Tom whispered in response. More giggling. “ _I’ll start while we split first prize._ ”

His eyes darkening, Nigel’s mouth was set to a grim line as he caught the last threads of treachery. Nudging closer to Adam, he made sure to keep his voice low. “There’s a prize?”

“Oh, yes” Adam mumbled back. In all his enthusiasm, he must have forgotten to mention that bit. “First prize is a trip for two to London. It was donated by one of our corporate partners, for running the skydome experience at their annual charity ball.”

“Right” Nigel sounded a bit strangled. “This is what’s going to happen. I’ll close the periphery, take down the main assailant, flushing the other to the narrow end. You wait and inflict maximum damage on exit.”

Adam stared back.

“I’ll make a scene, you shoot Emily.”

“Got it” Adam saluted, taking position. From the blue reflective strips on the side of Emily’s gun and vest, he could see she had swapped into the gear of the opposition. Shaking his head, he doubted mail delivery at the Observatory would ever be the same again.

_Round Countdown! Sixty seconds to close!_

“Now!” Nigel hissed, sprinting out of sight. Adam thought he heard a vigorous shout from Tom, a lot of beeping echoing from his vest. A moment later and Emily ran blindly toward him, clearly unsure of the best direction. Leaping out from behind a large neon cactus, Adam lined up his sights just like Nigel had shown him, firing over and over while Emily simply stood with her mouth slightly ajar.

_Achievement Bonus Time! All or nothing!_

As the overhead lights started flashing wildly, Adam saw two more blue vests out of the corner of his eyes. And his gun was making a strange sound.

_Recharge. Return to home base. Recharge._

Horrified, Adam spun around, trying to catch a glimpse of Nigel. He was nowhere to be found. Emily was smiling now. Adam could almost imagine it would be the same smile she gave when alighting at the steps of Buckingham Palace and Big Ben.

In a last-ditch effort, Adam dove behind the trees where Emily had first emerged. Which is where he saw it. The gun she must have left when she swapped to the blue one. Fumbling the weapon in both hands, Adam didn’t have time to think before all three of his opponents were upon him. Pacing backward the whole time, Adam pointed, aimed, and fired. Point. Aim. Fire. It was actually an easy rhythm to get the hang of, once you knew what you were trying to do. The rest of the lasers seemed to be hitting all over the place. Point, aim fire…

_Shut down! All teams return to start for final tally._

With a non-ambiguous stare, Emily unclipped her blue vest and dropped it on the floor, snatching her old gun somewhat unceremoniously from Adam’s hands.

-

By the time Nigel made it back to the starting point, Adam thought he looked rather pleased with himself. Raking his sweat-drenched hair back from his face, he gave a wry grin, kissing Adam on the forehead without checking to see who was watching.

“I saw you, you know. Fucking amazing.”

“I think I just got lucky” Adam smiled toward his shoes, the overhead lights suddenly feeling quite warm on his cheeks.

“Good marksmen always get lucky” Nigel squeezed him round the shoulders.

“The scores are in!” the Facilitator’s voice cut across the chatter, all eyes sweeping to the iPad in his hands. “And it was actually surprisingly close- looks like we chose the teams well!”

“Some better than others” Nigel muttered, snaking a purposeful glance in Emily’s direction.

“But by only a handful of hits, looks like Team Eclipse will be taking the trophy this year! Congratulations!” The Facilitator thrust a large and gaudy object toward the closest viable recipient, which happened to be Emily. The trophy looked almost as obnoxious as the glare she was returning in Nigel’s direction.

“But the score for the individual first prize, which is weighted on total hits, damage and accuracy percentage, was actually even closer, between Emily and Adam.”

Adam’s mouth dropped open. Of course. His last round of fire had all been with Emily’s first gun. Meaning… she had accrued the last of his points. Adam thought she looked ever so slightly smug now. Nigel, meanwhile, was gripping Adam’s hand so hard that he worried it was losing circulation.

“But, by a point, the winner is Adam!”

As the rest of his teammates erupted into all sorts of crazy noises, Adam stood still, not quite believing it. Nigel was shouting “ _I knew it, I fucking knew it_ ” incredibly loudly and hugging him. Slowly, Adam grinned. This was definitely better than bowling.

As the crowd dispersed, agreeing to reconvene at the bar across the road, Adam finally got a chance to debrief the final moments of battle to Nigel. While Adam enjoyed recounting the play-by-play of finding the discarded gun, Nigel seemed rather elusive when it came to his role in it all. Laughing, Adam decided this was no time for modesty.

“Nigel! Its fine, you can tell me you didn’t miss a shot and Tom went running or something. You’re not taking away my moment, I wouldn’t have hit anything at all if it wasn’t for you!”

Nigel gave a funny-looking frown, which usually meant he was struggling with the concept of receiving a compliment, but willing to let it pass if it meant Adam was happy.

“I think you may have put the fear of god in him though, Tom didn’t even show up for the announcement of the scores!”

In the middle of the carpark, Nigel suddenly stopped still.

“Nigel? Are you okay? Did you forget something?”

“You could say that” Nigel coughed, glancing back toward the arena. “Adam, we don’t happen to have a pair of wire-cutters in the car do we?”

“Not to my knowledge…” Adam pinched his eyebrows together, deciding it was too late in the day to be confused.

“Never mind!” Nigel said quickly. “I’ll just be a moment longer then. Excuse me a second, sweetheart, just have to… untie some loose ends.”

“Alright” Adam chirped, matching Nigel’s pace beside. “I’m right behind you.”

“To make sure there are no further casualties?” Nigel sounded rather guilty.

“Nope” Adam grinned. “To see the look on Tom’s face when we tell him we won.”

-


	13. Adam pet-sits. Nigel gets jealous.

"Do I have to keep the doors and windows closed?"

"Well... maybe if we're not around..."

"Curtains? Blinds? What about the air vent in the bathroom?"

"Nigel..." Adam set down the dice, wondering how Nigel managed to land on his Mayfair hotel every single time. "We're not housing an escaped convict, you know. It's just... one cat."

Nigel frowned, unaffected. "One cat. Many things that could go wrong. And we'll never hear the end of it if they do."

Holding out his hand for payment, Adam couldn't help but feel Nigel had been acting very oddly ever since they had been asked to pet-sit. He wasn't even trying to negotiate underhanded fee discounts in exchange for favours of another sort. Which was basically the only reason Nigel ever agreed to play Monopoly.

"Is this... because of the time we had to give up that stray?" Adam asked, managing to slip an extra hundred into Nigel's fast-depleting bank funds as he passed Go. "I know you got really attached."

"I wasn't even _slightly_ attached" Nigel rolled his eyes, his smirk falling as he realised he was out of properties to mortgage. "I didn't even remember it until now."

"Oh, okay." Adam smiled as he acquired another G _et Out of Jail Free_ card. "I just thought you were upset, because of the way you cried after the new owner picked him up".

Nigel curled his upper lip, choking out a laugh. “I was not _crying_ , Adam, I was having a mild allergic reaction.”

“Were you still having an allergic reaction three days later, when you finally let me throw out his food bowl?”

Nigel glared at him across the board. “Okay smartypants. What do I have to go to make you loosen your hold on all the city utilities, hmm?”

Wriggling back from his paper and plastic empire, Adam brimmed to a smile. “ _Finally_. I thought you’d never ask!”

-

In truth, keeping an eye on the neighbor’s cat wasn’t nearly as difficult as Adam had imagined. It was, in fact, the cat who didn’t want to let Adam out of _her_ sight.

“Ni-Ni” Adam whispered, holding his hand up. The striped ball of fur uncurled a paw, placing it squarely in the middle of Adam’s palm. “She knows how to high-five!”

Nigel raised an eyebrow, less than impressed. “What kind of name is _Tabby_ , anyway” he grumbled, stirring butter through the freshly-microwaved popcorn. “Fucking unoriginal. Might as well have been called _Cat_. Or _Two-Eyes_. Or _Four-Legs_.”

Adam giggled, craning his neck toward the kitchen to see Nigel better. “Well, Jamie only _just_ started college, you know” Adam practiced the trick again, this time with both palms. “She would have chosen the name when she was, like, twelve.”

Carrying the bowl into the room, Nigel arranged himself on the opposite end of the couch, not too sure where to put his legs, now that Adam’s lap was occupied. He settled on tucking them beneath him, mouth still pinched to a frown.

“…Who’s Jamie?”

Adam laughed, then mouthed a ‘sorry’ toward his new buddy on seeing her ears twitch in disapproval. “Um… our neighbor? We went to her housewarming last year?”

Nigel scowled, trying to decide what to do with his hands without Adam’s to play with. “If by going to her housewarming, you mean the time we put a ribbon around a pot plant, took one look at the crowd and abandoned it on the doorstep, then sure, I remember.”

“Yes, that’s the one!” Adam brightened. “You’ll be happy to know she still has it too. Right in the middle of her living room.”

“Wonderful” Nigel muttered, his mouth full of popcorn. He offered the bowl to Adam.

“I’d better not. I already said Tabby wasn’t allowed any more treats this evening. It would be hypocritical.”

-

By the time Nigel had finished in the bathroom, Adam was already down to his reading-lamp. His eyes still adjusting, Nigel crawled his way across the bed, gently reaching for Adam’s hand.

Instead, his grip closed around a bunch of hair.

“What the-”

The more creative part of the sentence was drowned out by an obnoxiously high-pitched screech, followed by a good deal of hissing.

“Ni-Ni, you’re not supposed to pull a cat’s tail!” Adam sat up, his eyes wide with surprise.

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Nigel yelped, not exactly remorseful. Exchanging a mutually distasteful glare with the smaller creature, he shifted his head toward Adam’s pillow, breathing a little slower. “Sorry if I scared you.”

Adam leaned in to kiss Nigel at the side of the mouth. “I think you scared Tabby more.”

Nigel thought the cat looked more smug than anything, having shuffled even further under Adam’s arms. Nigel cleared his throat.

“Does Tabby, maybe… want to sleep in Tabby’s bed?”

Adam nuzzled his nose into the bundle of fur. Nigel could have sworn it was actually _purring_ now. “Oh, I tried. But then she looked so lonely.”

“Right.”

Adam flicked off the light. Nigel glowered at the ceiling. Adam turned it back on.

“Nigel?”

Nigel tried his best to make his frown a little more affectionate. It wasn’t working.

“Are you… jealous of the cat?”

Nigel managed to snort, roll his eyes, shake his head and give an immensely loud laugh all at once.

Adam tipped his head to the side, perplexed. “Is… that a yes?”

Nigel sighed. “It’s possible that I…” he risked a glance to Adam, who was nodding encouragingly “…might just not like…” Adam raised his eyebrows, thoroughly expectant “…sharing?”

Adam blinked. “With… a cat?”

Nigel smirked, finally turning to face him. “Well. When you say it like that.” He gave Adam’s hand an apologetic squeeze “I guess it sounds… a bit…”

“-adorable?” Adam finished, squeezing back. With his free hand, he lowered Tabby to the ground. “Sorry buddy. I’d let you snuggle, but…” Adam gave Nigel an incredibly deliberate wink “Nigel’s allergic.”

“Very allergic” Nigel confirmed, a purposeful nod in Adam’s direction.

“The most allergic.” Adam rearranged himself beneath the sheets. Nigel liked Adam’s new position a good deal more. “And if he’s still allergic three days after you’ve gone back home…” Adam grinned “I won’t tell anyone.”

-


	14. New Year’s Eve with Adam and Nigel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Whilst Adam thinks he’ll be missing out on the midnight fireworks, Nigel takes matters into his own hands._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has read these smol goopy things this year, your likes and tags and comments always brighten my day, and I truly appreciate every one of them! ;_; Wishing you a happy and safe NYE and a wonderful 2016! <3 <3

Adam paced around the bedroom, the squeak of the tap letting him know Nigel was finished in the shower. It was now or never. Fidgeting his hands to the insides of his pyjama sleeves, Adam affected his most casual lean at the side of their bed. Then, deciding even that looked too worrisome, slouched himself half over the blankets, a carefree smile plastered all over his face.

Nigel wrenched open the bathroom door, one hand ruffling a towel to his hair, skin still flushed warm from the steam. He took one look at Adam, and stopped in his tracks.

“Shit, baby, what’s going on?” Curving the towel to his waist, Nigel stormed across the room, Adam sitting up in alarm.

Kneeling at the side of the bed so he wasn’t towering over the younger man, Nigel wove his fingers through Adam’s, trying not to let his concern make him act like a fucking lunatic.

“Did something happen while I was in the shower?” Nigel felt his pulse coil at his stomach, the thought of some door-to-door salesman or overzealous caroller upsetting Adam doing more than aggravate him. It wasn’t till Adam glanced rather nervously at their hands that Nigel realised he was squeezing way too tight.

“No, no…” realising Nigel was getting more apprehensive by the second, Adam gave him a light pat on the head. It made Nigel’s jaw unclench a little at least. But it didn’t make a single bit of what he was about to say any easier. Adam squeezed his eyes shut.

“Nigel, I’m so sorry!” he blurted “I thought I could come see the fireworks with you but I just can’t! I’ve been thinking about it all week, and the crowd, and the place, and the fact that it was me that suggested it… and now it’s tonight… and I can’t do it, I can’t-”

“Sweetheart, sweetheart-” Nigel moved as if to take Adam’s other hand, which happened to be flailing in the air ever more wildly as he spoke. Then, deciding against it, he laid his head on Adam’s lap instead. “I couldn’t give a fuck about the event” he murmured, soft. “Not a flying fuck. We can stay here and order takeout and watch Ocean’s Eleven for the fifth night in a row, and…”

Adam was furiously shaking his head, his breathing quickening.

“But you looked so happy” he choked, remembering Nigel’s face when he’d brought up the celebration in the first place. “You did that thing where you try really hard not to smile too much, and then you _do_ , and then you try even harder not to-”

“Angel, stop…” Nigel’s features pinched to something far more unreadable. “That had nothing to do with going out. The only reason I was so happy…” Nigel cleared his throat over the word, not quite at ease pronouncing it.

“-Was because you wanted us to see the fireworks together” Adam concluded.

“-Was because it’s our first New Year’s Eve together” Nigel finished. Realising his wet hair had now thoroughly soaked through Adam’s pyjama pants, he shuffled onto the mattress instead, gently pulling Adam against his chest. As Adam sniffled, Nigel warmed to a more playful smile. And… something close to a wink. “Besides, we don’t need to step a fucking foot outside this building to see some fireworks. Leave it with me.”

Seeing Nigel completely unbothered by his admission, Adam’s chest slowly un-scrunched. Ever more accustomed to Nigel’s colloquialisms, Adam decided his use of the word ‘fireworks’ was of course metaphorical rather than literal.

For once, Adam was wrong.

-

Whilst Adam worked on his laptop over the course of the day, he noticed a fair few more people visit the apartment that he would have expected. He was of course accustomed to various nebulous characters dropping by at all hours, all close acquaintances of Nigel. Darko had even taken to occasionally bringing him a novelty souvenir from his various trips around Eastern Europe, all of which Adam had cheerily lined across the edge of his desk.

But these visitors were far more concerning. They didn’t arrive in cars with tinted windows, wear sharply pressed suits in summer, nor even look to be carrying any concealed weapons. They rang the doorbell. They even _smiled_. They definitely weren’t the sort of people Nigel ever asked over. Adam was intrigued.

The first man, Adam guessed was a tradesman. He wore steel capped-boots, beige overalls, and carried a large toolbox. Nigel met him at the front door, then ushered him out to the hallway, speaking in hushed tones. Not offering an explanation, Nigel still looked rather satisfied on his return.

Another knock came whilst Nigel was smoking on the balcony. Reaching the door first, Adam was greeted by two brothers, blue overalls and smaller toolboxes this time. Overhearing Adam’s greeting, Nigel rushed through the hallway, cigarette still pinched at his lips. Halfway out the front door, Nigel leaned back in to give Adam a rough kiss at the side of his mouth.

“Just some electricians baby, back in a tic.”

Adam wondered what kind of electricians made house calls on New Year’s Eve. But then again, electrical hazards didn’t stop for public holidays either.

The next occasion Nigel left the flat, he had received a call to his cell phone only moments before, ducking out of earshot to answer it. And even then, Adam could hear him speaking Romanian. This time he took even longer to come back, his knees and shirt covered in a fine chalky powder, finger-marked where he had tried to brush it off. Instead of changing, Adam found Nigel rummaging in the cupboards under the sink, shoving all of Adam’s favourite cleaning products together in a plastic bag and stalking right back outside again.

Sitting at his laptop, Adam attempted to put it all together. Googling a few of the active chemicals in the various bleaches, along with ‘white chalky substance’, the first search result filled him with alarm.

_DIY Safe Science Projects- Explosives vs Reactive Agents_

Knowing Nigel’s lack of enthusiasm for science, Adam didn’t feel safety ever made it to the top of his agenda either. By process of elimination, that only left the words ‘ _DIY’_ and ‘ _explosives’_ for Adam’s consideration. Taking an apprehensive gulp from his lemon soda, Adam decided he might have to bring it up. Hearing Nigel’s key turn in the front door, he quickly closed the browser window.

“Croatian for dinner?” Nigel suggested, grabbing the home-delivery menu from the fridge. “Or shall we go crazy and try that Hungarian place?”

“Ni-Ni…” Adam ventured, nipping round his desk. Nigel was wiping his nose on his wrist, more of the strange dusty powder smeared across his cheek. “All these… _visitors_ coming around. I hope you’re not planning anything… dangerous.”

Nigel winked, holding up the picture of the Hungarian restaurant. “You’ve been watching too much Ocean’s Eleven, darling.”

Adam had to admit, he’d been tempted by the goulash special for a while. “Okay, yes please, let’s go crazy.” He followed with a little hum, realising Nigel had sidestepped the question somehow. “But just _normal-crazy_. Like, fun, safe crazy. Not anything illegal crazy.”

Nigel’s smirk grew even wider, and he turned aside to dial the number. Adam busied himself with setting their placemats and cutlery on the coffee table. _Too much_ _Ocean’s Eleven_ _indeed_. Adam switched on the DVD player, the familiar action sequence loading onto the menu screen. Now that he thought about it, those electricians had looked a bit like George Clooney though...

By the time the sun had set, Nigel had eaten way too much and left the apartment several more times. Adam changed back into his pyjamas. He felt a bit sad, knowing the fireworks would be happening all too soon, but was determined to not let Nigel notice this time. That wasn’t the important thing. The important thing was that Nigel wasn’t disappointed in him. The important thing was being together.

Nigel burst into the bedroom. From the excited glint in his eyes, Adam suspected he had finished off the last of the sugary Hungarian dumplings for dessert, even after his third helping of stew.

“You can keep those on but you’ll need a jumper” Nigel announced, striding over to their closet. He took out two of his own, motioning to Adam to put his arms up in the air.

“What about you?” Adam asked, confused as Nigel tugged one over his head, quickly followed by the other. The jumpers were so big for him that his hands didn’t even pop out of the sleeves.

“I’ll be fine.” Nigel strode toward the front entrance, pulling Adam’s canvas sneakers from their neatly allocated place on the shoe-rack.

“I thought you said we wouldn’t be stepping a foot outside the building” Adam giggled, nervous.

“Technically, we won’t be” Nigel held out his arms, leaning down to carefully lift Adam into a fireman hold. “Close your eyes.”

Adam did so, hearing Nigel kick the door closed behind them. But instead of heading down the stairs to the street level, Nigel seemed to be climbing _up_ some stairs. And Adam was fairly sure, the last time he checked… their flat was already on the top level.

“Alright” Nigel gently lowered Adam’s feet to the ground. “You can look now.”

Adam was almost afraid to. Squinting, he peeked one eye first, and then the other. Through the blur of his eyelashes, he could just make out… a whole lot of lights. His mouth falling ajar, Adam opened them properly. They were on the top of the most beautiful building he had ever seen, a thick canopy of hanging bulbs and lanterns strung up above them. Against the dark of the sky, it looked like a portal to some other world.

“Where _are_ we?” Adam breathed, his exhale threading a thin fog in the crisp night air.

“On the rooftop, baby” Nigel snorted, not looking unpleased with himself.

“The rooftop is covered with broken tiles and debris from that thunderstorm” Adam stated, glancing around in wonder. Instead of concrete at his feet, Adam suddenly recognised some of the old blankets and rugs they kept stored beneath the laundry room, all different colours and patterns laid over one another. _Like a gypsy tent_ , he thought, enchanted.

“Well. I fixed it up a bit, didn’t I.” Nigel crossed his arms, directing a crooked glare somewhere into the distance.

In a single movement, Adam thrust his arms around Nigel’s middle, squeezing the air from his lungs. “Nigel, I love it” he whispered, almost too overjoyed to breathe. “I love it so much. I love _you_ so much… I-” he paused, trying his very best not to start laughing. “I… am so glad you weren’t cooking up any homemade explosives!”

“Homemade explosives!” Nigel coughed, not doing anything to loosen Adam’s grip one bit. “How damn irresponsible do you think I am?” He measured a wry wink toward the face tucked at his chest regardless. “And if I wanted some fucking explosives, I know a dozen street kids who could run them over here in ten minutes flat.” One side of his mouth pulled up at the corner, Nigel nudged them toward the roof edge, nodding at the horizon. “From here, we’ll have the best view of the fireworks in the city already.”

As the first burst of colour lit up the sky, Adam’s eyes watered with delight. He had seen stuff like this on the television before, but never with his own eyes. It was loud. It was bright. It was _brilliant._

Holding on to Nigel like he’d never let go, a peculiar thought crossed Adam’s mind. “So the tiler… and the electricians… I’m sure you know a lot of locals for that kind of work…”

Nigel shrugged, his cheek pressed to Adam’s forehead as the patterns spiralled above.

“…but how did you get all these fairy lights at such late notice? All the shops are closed. And there must be over 60 feet worth…” Adam stopped, gasping as a shimmer of silvery rain splattered over the stars. “They… look a lot like the decorations on City Hall yesterday, the ones I said looked really pretty and…”

Adam trailed off, Nigel squinting up above him rather harder than necessary.

“…and I hope we can keep them” Adam finished, a hopeful glance at Nigel’s jaw. Nigel looked down. “So I can help you put them again up next year. And the year after. And… the year after that.”

Nigel pressed his lips against Adam’s curls. A last fracture of gold and white trickled down around them, all spicy and smoky and warm. “I love you…” he murmured “…more than I know how to say.”

Adam leaned back. Reaching his hands to either side of Nigel’s face, he drew him down, their lips meeting in between the lanterns and the dark. He didn’t have to. In everything that Nigel did, Adam already knew. He always had. He always would. He loved him back.

-


	15. Adam and Nigel- Lost in London

Nigel squinted at the London tourist map, holding it very close to his face, followed by very far away.

“Nigel, it isn’t a magic eye puzzle” Adam ventured. “It’s not like there’s a trick to reading it. We’re just going to have to buckle up and…”

Snorting at the absurdity the suggestion before it left Adam’s lips, Nigel promptly turned the map upside down and proceeded to glare at the nearby street signs like they were certainly to blame.

“Darling. For the last time-”

Adam had to jog to keep pace, as Nigel was now making for the nearest intersection with unyielding purpose.

“-I do _not_ need to ask for directions.”

Shuffling the lower half of his face further into his scarf, Adam hid a smile. He didn’t think Nigel _needed_ to ask for directions, exactly, however directions were the sort of thing that came in useful, four hours after no-directions turned up nothing.

“Why are there fifteen fucking roads named Piccadilly anyway?” Nigel snapped, “Try that on in Romania and heaven help you-”

 “Well, they’re technically not all roads” Adam interjected, pointing brightly over the outstretched paper. “See, this one’s actually an avenue, those two are lanes, there are a few cul-de-sacs over here-”

From the way Nigel’s eyebrows became ever more scrunchy, Adam guessed he had a particularly strong dislike for cul-de-sacs, or perhaps just no-through-roads in general. It wasn’t something Adam could quite relate to… but then again, Nigel did have a very troubled adolescence.

Deciding it was time for a more practical solution, Adam stepped on top of the closest fire hydrant, balancing on one foot while he observed the end of the road from a higher vantage point. Nothing. He leaned a little further to get a glimpse round the corner, wobbling a good deal more than he would have liked.

Absorbed in levelling the axis of the map with the line of the horizon, Nigel didn’t notice Adam’s flailing hands until one collided with the bridge of his nose. Eyes streaming, he still managed to drop the map in time to catch Adam on-route to the pavement, one arm caught below Adam’s shoulders, the other under his knees. Nigel blinked at the smaller man in surprise.

Adam beamed back up at him. “Good catch?”

“I’ll say.” Nigel grumbled, a twinge of relief poking at his stomach. Gently, he eased Adam back down to the ground, looking around his feet for the map.

It was halfway down the street.

“Hurry!” Adam yelped, getting a decent head start. “It’s making for the waterway!”

Jogging a few steps forward, Nigel found he wasn’t nearly as quick on his feet whilst trying not to laugh, barely able to keep up with Adam, let alone catch the rogue tourist map. They reconvened at the edge of Grand Union canal, just in time to watch it floating out of reach.

“Fuck.” Nigel managed, unable to keep from smirking. “Well. About as useful in the river as it was the whole fucking day.”

Adam grinned, making a move as if to sit up on the railing, then just as swiftly rethinking it. The crinkles at Nigel’s eyes grew even deeper as the paper sank into the distance.

“Famous London Street Art guide my fucking ass. Should have just stuck with the National Gallery.”

Adam patted him on the back. “Well…” he giggled “we did at least find a lot of streets.”

Not having quite caught his breath, Nigel struggled not to start laughing a second time. Pinching a cigarette between his lips, he threw a wink to the waiters at the coffee shop across the road, who had possibly never seen two foreigners so amused by the sight of a muddy canal.

“Adam, you’re fucking gorgeous. And if you ever want to drag me on a wild goose chase, for whatever reason… I promise I won’t say a fucking word.”

“I’ll… keep that in mind.” Adam nodded, not quite sure Nigel was aware that the Game Act of 1831 prohibited such activities in urbanised environments. But then again, it had been a long day. “For now, can I settle for dragging you back to our hotel room?”

Raising an eyebrow, Nigel exhaled a thin fog on the air.

“One condition though” Adam added, threading his fingers through the rougher clasp of Nigel’s. “From the second we walk through the door, until I say so…” he squeezed Nigel’s hand “…you are not allowed to say a fucking word.”

-


	16. Adam sees Nigel tipsy for the first time

Nigel sometimes came home late. Not just after-dinner late, or after the Actor’s Studio late, but middle-of-the-night late. It wasn’t Adam’s favourite sort of time to wait up until, but as long as Nigel let him know when to expect him, Adam understood that sometimes, it was the kind of late that couldn’t be avoided.

It wasn’t until he heard a very large object come crashing to the floor in the hallway that Adam realised for once, he’d actually fallen asleep well before Nigel walked in the door. If it even _was_ Nigel. Nigel was always very quiet when he came home after dark.

“ _Motherfucking fuck this goddamn fucking coat stand…_ ”

Yes, it was definitely Nigel. Granted, he made an effort to keep his cursing to a muttered hiss, but from the second clatter when Nigel collided with Adam’s shoe rack several steps later, that seemed to be about as subtle as he was going to get.

“Nigel? Do you want me to switch the hallway light on? There’s still a side table and a bookshelf to go, before you reach the sitting room?”

Nigel seemed to find the light switch by himself, poking his head round the corner a moment later. “Got it. Sorry, darling. I was trying not to wake you.”

Rubbing his eyes, Adam smiled, wriggling himself free of the throw rug. “Oh no, I’m glad you did. Otherwise I would have been sleeping on the couch the whole night, instead of our bedroom!”

As he made his way over, Adam couldn’t help notice Nigel looked a bit like he'd just woken up himself, hair sticking in a few different directions, shirt half-untucked.

“No, you wouldn’t have. I’d have carried you.” Nigel gave a crooked grin, flopping down on the cushions beside and pointing to the book spread across Adam’s lap. “ _Whatwereyoureading?_ ”

Tipping his head to one side, it took Adam a split-second to realise the blur of syllables had been a question. Giggling, he held the cover upright so that Nigel could make out the title. Leaning in close, Nigel still squinted as he read it out loud.

“ _The Ghost in the Atom: A Discussion of the Mysteries of Quantum Physics._ ” His eyebrows pinching together at the middle, Nigel stifled a hiccup behind his hand.

Placing his bookmark neatly where he had left-off, Adam gave a solemn nod. “A comprehensie collection of radio transcripts from the mid-1980’s, when several leading physicists began to grapple with the interpretation of quantum theory, a subject that had until that time, been largely disregarded.”

The book had no sooner vacated Adam’s lap before Nigel replaced it with his head, nuzzling his nose against Adam’s cardigan.

“Well. No wonder you fell asleep.”

Winking up at him, Nigel looked like he regretted the decision very soon after, quickly maneuvering himself to sit upright again. Scrunching his eyes closed, Adam thought Nigel looked a fraction paler when he re-opened them. It didn’t stop him from smirking though, even if was in the wrong direction.

“Ni-Ni?”

Nigel re-focused enough to give him a hazy nod. Adam tilted his head to one side, curious.

“Are you… sleepy?”

Wiping his nose, Nigel gave a rueful shake of his head, unhooking a crumpled packet of cigarettes from his pocket. Tucking one at the side of his mouth, he already had the lighter half raised before remembering he wasn’t on the balcony. Avoiding the coffee table whilst getting to his feet, Nigel took a few backwards steps, jerking his chin for Adam to follow.

Amused, Adam took his hand, not quite sure it was the right evening for Nigel to not be looking where he was going. As Nigel fumbled with the latch on the balcony door, Adam’s mouth suddenly dropped.

“Oh my goodness.”

Squeezing Adam’s palm, Nigel leant down to touch their foreheads together. “Mmm?”

“Are you _tipsy?_ ”

Finally wrenching the door aside, Nigel stepped onto the balcony, the flame of the lighter wavering at his lips.

“A fucking mile past tipsy, unfortunately.” Taking a long drag of the cigarette, Nigel turned aside to exhale, a shade apologetic as he glanced back down.

Adam beamed. “But… you can drink so much. And I’ve _never_ seen you drunk!”

Blinking at Adam’s somewhat fascinated expression, Nigel’s eyes became more and more creased at the corners, his mouth turned up at each end.

“My own fucking fault, believe me. I’ll regret it tomorrow.” As if to highlight the point, Nigel twitched to a grimace, letting his fingers slip from Adam’s. “If not sooner.”

Adam frowned. Nigel seemed to be shivering whilst looking overheated at the same time.

“Ni-Ni… are you… going to throw up?”

Giving a wide roll of his eyes, Nigel scoffed at the suggestion. Adam noticed he seemed to be leaning on the balcony railing ever more heavily though.

“Adam, I don’t _throw up_.”

“Oh.” Adam moved in for a cuddle. When Nigel look an uneven step in the opposite direction, he considered the statement a little further. “But, I mean, I might not have _seen_ you throw up, but remember that time we went on that cruise, and there was a lot of wind, and then the boat started rocking from side to side, back and forth, up and down, and then…”

He trailed off, seeing Nigel was now gritting his jaw incredibly firmly, the last of the cigarette crushed under his heel.

“ _Oh_.” With a sheepish grin, Adam pointed back the way they came. “Our bathroom is to the left, by the way. In case you forgot. You know… being so very drunk.”

Swallowing, Nigel managed to raise a wry eyebrow. “Is that a joke, Adam?”

“…is it funny?”

Slowly, Nigel curved to a smile. “…yes.”

With a last fond glance at the smaller man, Nigel bolted back through the door and to the left a good deal faster than he had arrived.

“Funny _and_ practical!” Adam called out after him.

-

It was awfully silent in the bathroom by the time Adam had fetched a glass of iced water.

“Ni-Ni, are you feeling a bit better yet? I brought you something to drink. Water, that is. Not more alcohol.”

From inside, he could hear Nigel groan, huskier than usual. “Thank you, baby. But I don’t think I’m going to be putting any more liquids in my stomach for a while now.”

“Okay.” Adam gave a little hum, still hovering outside the door. “But, maybe you could just take a tiny sip, just to mitigate the risk of possible dehydration-”

Adam heard Nigel give a low chuckle. “Sweetheart, I'm not fucking dying. I'm just... a fucking idiot.”

Shuffling from one foot to the other, Adam creased his brow. “...can you be a fucking idiot and still let me bring you this glass of water, please?”

From the other side, Adam heard a soft rustle as Nigel got up, gently pulling the door ajar.

“I’ll be alright.”

“I know.” Adam nodded, sliding decidedly past. “And I’ll be here with you, so we can be alright together.”

Relenting to a laugh, Nigel sat at the side of the bathtub, slouched toward his knees. Adam crossed his arms.

“See? That’s _twice_ you’ve thought my jokes were funny. Now I’m _definitely_ keeping an eye on you.”

Stretching for the tap, Nigel cupped a palm under the stream, raking a handful of cold water over his face. When he turned back to Adam, he looked a little steadier despite the hair dripping into his eyes.

“I always think your jokes are funny.”

Adam reached for a dry towel.

Nigel took a breath, somewhat shaky. “No, really. I do.” He cleared his throat, looking for a clue somewhere over Adam’s shoulder. “I mean, I’m not sure I’m going to be making much fucking sense right now, but-”

“You are. It does.”

Adam held the towel up to Nigel’s cheeks, pressing against the droplets of water running down his jaw.

“I think that’s the thing, Nigel. No matter how much you don’t throw up, or don’t ever come down with anything, or don’t get injured, or don’t get worried, or don’t get really really protective sometimes...”

Adam brushed Nigel’s hair back from his forehead, sitting beside him at the edge of the bath. It was about as comfortable as it looked. But, Nigel was smiling at least now. Even if he was really _really_ trying to look like he wasn’t.

“…you’ve always made sense to me.”

-


	17. Nigel gets into a fight. Adam panics.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (From earlier in the relationship, where things were a bit more up in the air!)

Not too long after they met, Adam had told Nigel he didn’t always see things the way a lot of people did, which sometimes led to miscommunication. He could tell Nigel understood what he was saying. But at the same time, Nigel hadn’t just been trying to make him feel better, when he said that he didn’t either.

“It’s like… some things go too slow, but sometimes, so fucking fast that…” Nigel had paused, glancing down like he did when he wasn’t sure Adam would want to hear something. “…that I’ve already done ten fucking things too many, and the whole thing’s fucking finished before I fucking knew what any of it meant.”

Nigel always squeezed a lot of fucks in when he got emotional. And Adam had promised that if things ever got too fast, he would be there to help him make sense of it all.

But that was the thing about anything that went too fast. You could never see it coming.

-

“ _You owe me_ ”

The voice was slurred, all harsh and blurry at once. The man had caught them at the corner where the commercial trash cans got left out overnight, shops long closed and streets near empty.

“ _You owe me, Nigel, you bloody owe me_.”

Nigel had stiffened, throwing an arm across Adam’s chest much like they had come to a stop without seatbelts. With a low, guttural sound, he snarled an answer to the stranger that Adam couldn’t quite catch. Possibly Romanian. Nigel conducted a lot of his business in Romanian.

The man was laughing, dilated pupils unfocused as he snaked a foot closer. Nigel stepped in front of Adam, handing him the last of their frozen coke from the cinema.

“Sorry, baby. Look after this for me for a second?”

Nigel’s voice came gentle, the sort of tone he used when he was calming Adam down from a panic. Adam wasn’t in a panic. But it made him wonder if there was something about the interaction that wasn’t quite right. Adam listened carefully as Nigel addressed the stranger, but his intonation didn’t change. Adam thought Nigel sounded extremely polite.

“You’re mistaken, friend. Take some advice before you leave- don’t run your mouth while you’re off your fucking face. Now piss off.”

Well, maybe not that last bit. But the frozen coke was melting, and Adam knew Nigel wasn’t usually in the mood for chatting to acquaintances when they were on their way home to bed.

More laughing from the stranger. Adam didn’t understand the joke Nigel must have made, but he gave a responsive smile so that Nigel wouldn’t worry that he was feeling left out. Taking note of it, the newcomer seemed more interested in Adam than before, switching to Romanian this time to direct some sort of question to Nigel.

He had barely finished speaking when Nigel’s fist connected with the man’s nose, a splatter of blood hitting the pavement at about the same time as Adam dropped the drink, ice and soda splashing over his shoes. Adam covered his ears, trying to block out spitting curses that seemed to echo in every direction, the crunch of the man’s knees on the concrete, the hiss of breath as Nigel twisted him into a stranglehold.

And there was another sound too. Horrified, Adam realised it was his own voice, high-pitched and frantic, wailing for Nigel to stop.

He didn’t get to find out if it worked. Turning heel, he sprinted in the opposite direction faster than he thought himself capable, desperate to find a location where he felt less exposed. Usually when he got upset, Adam found that he couldn’t move. This time, he couldn’t keep still. Adam didn’t slow his pace a fraction until he heard a yell from behind him, spinning around in terror in case it was the stranger again.

It was Nigel. He halted as soon as he saw Adam had stopped, both hands in the air, giving Adam space.

“Baby, it’s just m-”

“Get away from me!” Adam shouted. Even as he said it, he knew that wasn’t what he wanted. But, just like Nigel had said, it was all moving too fast. “Why are you hitting that man in the street? He didn’t hit you!”

“I-”

“What did he say to you?” Adam could hear the words catching in his throat. He was inhaling far too quickly, he could feel it, but there was nothing he could do. “Did he tell you he was about to hurt us? Or someone else?”

Nigel ventured a step toward him, Adam’s breathing now coming in shuddering gasps. Furious, Adam took a step backward. Nigel’s mouth crumpled down at the corners.

“…no.”

“Then what did he say?” Adam swallowed, his hands shaking at his sides. He wasn’t far off tears, overwhelmed with the unexpected turn of events.

“Sweetheart, this isn’t a safe part of town, will you please let me-”

“No!” trying his best to quiet his voice, Adam’s heart broke a little as he saw Nigel flinch. Looking around, he hadn’t realised he had run quite so far, the unfamiliar streets not making things any better. “Was the other part of town safe? It didn’t seem safe! What you did wasn’t something safe for the person you did it to!”

Nigel seemed to get tangled in the explanation, glancing between his hands and the ground, all twitchy and grimacing. He stared at Adam pleadingly, slouched forward as if trying to make himself smaller.

“Darling, he… deserved a lot worse.”

Adam stared. Nigel cringed.

“Nigel, I’m going to walk home.”

Frowning, Adam stepped past in the direction he very much hoped he came from. Nigel took a deep breath, then slowly let it out, looking a lot like he had been punched himself. Adam paused.

“…even if that man said something very bad, or even illegal… if he was dangerous, we could have called the police. But now, he might call the police on _you_.”

“He won’t” Nigel snapped, immediately clenching his jaw back together and glaring at the road.

Adam kept walking, Nigel trailing behind. It took the whole twenty minutes back past the cinema before Adam’s heart had sunk from his windpipe back to his chest. He could hear Nigel occasionally sniff or clear his throat, but each time Adam thought he was about to say something, he would swallow and fall silent instead. Trembling, Adam forced himself to look from side to side as they passed the corner where it happened. The man was nowhere in sight.

“What happened after I left?” Adam mumbled, unable to put his mind at ease.

“I… sent him home, Adam.” Nigel answered, soft. “I shoved him into a cab with some cash. We can drive past his shithole flat, if you’re worried. I promise, he was alright…”

“I don’t want you to go anywhere near his flat!” Adam yelped, trying to incorporate a more appeasing facial expression at the end so Nigel would at least know he was in a better state to talk about it.

From the unsteady pull at one corner of Nigel’s mouth, he looked like he appreciated it.

“Well… neither do I.” he tried a half-hearted wink. “Don’t fucking think he’d be too keen either.”

“It still isn’t funny, Nigel.”

His smile slipping, Nigel hung his head. “…I know.”

Continuing toward the apartment, Adam let Nigel walk by his side instead of three feet behind. He was almost inside the lobby foyer before Adam noticed Nigel had stopped at the front steps. Even though this _was_ a safe part of town, and Nigel could clearly look after himself… it was still a sorry sight to see him alone under the streetlamps.

Adam traced his way back to the sidewalk, pausing at the second-last step so he was standing just above eye-level with Nigel.

“Ni? Why are you waiting here?” Adam scrunched the bridge of his nose, his curls falling right back over his eyes almost as soon as he had shook them free.

 “I thought you might… not want me to come in.” Nigel looked like he was trying his best not to frown. Adam wasn’t sure it was succeeding. “Which is okay.”

“But this is the flat that you own?” Adam felt like he might be missing something. Nigel didn’t look very much like he thought it was okay, and Adam opened his arms in case he wanted a hug. Nigel didn’t move.

“Where you’re always welcome, baby. But I want you to feel safe. And if you didn’t… and you still don’t, then that’s my fault. You’re right. I… overreacted.”

“Yes.” Adam held his arms a bit higher. Hesitating, Nigel stepped close enough to nudge his head against Adam’s shoulder, arms still limp by his sides. “But that doesn’t mean I want you to stand outside all night. That would also be an overreaction.”

“I’m sorry I scared you.” The words were muffled against Adam’s shirt. “I know that it isn’t fucking good enough, not for either of us-”

“Nigel…” Slowly, Adam felt Nigel’s arms fold around his back. “Did that man say something about me?”

As Nigel flickered a glance upward, Adam caught his eyes narrowing.

“…because if he did, I want you to know I’m not offended.” Adam pulled back for a second, so that Nigel could see he was being sincere. “If he said I seem a bit different, or anything ruder than that, it honestly doesn’t matter to me. I _am_ a bit different. But I don’t see it as a bad thing, and I know you don’t either.”

“ _Of course I don’t_.” Despite Nigel’s initial wavering on whether he wanted a cuddle, he was clinging on more tightly with every word. “But I can’t just let-”

“You can’t control what people are going to think. Or say.” Adam rocked him ever so slightly from side to side, which he always found to be soothing. “Disconnecting having a thought from acting on impulse takes practice.”

Nigel blinked. “I can control how they fucking feel about saying it though.”

“Ni-”

“-I’m kidding” Nigel gave a watery smile, fading as he leant his forehead back into Adam’s collarbone. “I fucked up. I don’t want it to fucking happen again. And I’ll listen, and practice, and whatever else you need, because I don’t know what I’m fucking doing sometimes.”

Nigel always did use a lot of fucks when he got emotional.

“Well, right now, you’re coming inside with me.” Adam rubbed between his shoulder blades while Nigel wiped his eyes against Adam’s shirt. “And… I’m not _leaving_ you, by the way.”

Nigel gave a dampened cough, then a small jerk of his head.

“Not just today, I mean… I’m not… leaving you.”

“You don’t know that.” Nigel muttered, not quite meeting Adam’s line of sight.

“Actually, I do.” Adam took his hand, tugging him toward the front door. His canvas sneakers made squeaky sounds across the marble flooring, Nigel’s echoed after every footstep. “I know you don’t give up. Not on yourself, not on me, and sometimes not on things which are the wrong thing, which… we can work on.” He squeezed Nigel’s hand, attempting a wry grin like Nigel always did.

Nigel smirked down at his shirt buttons, not ungrateful for the gesture. Adam took another breath.

“But I don’t give up either. Not on me. Not on you…” he stopped as they reached the very top of the stairs. “And definitely not on us. Okay?”

For someone who had just been told they were loved, Nigel did rather seem like he was in a great deal of pain.

“…okay” he managed. And then, “…did you just say _us_?”

Adam nodded, hopeful. He wasn’t sure if he had actually voiced it out loud before. He had certainly thought it enough times. “Does _that_ sound… okay?”

“It sounds very fucking okay.”

From strangely lopsided smile on his face, Adam guessed that if Nigel _was_ in pain, it also looked a lot like he never wanted it to end. Adam pulled him over the threshold. Nigel didn’t look back.

-


	18. Adam and Will in High School

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tiny Spacedogs/Hannigram crossover (high school au!), just for fun! <3
> 
> [samui_sakura](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sammie_s43073) also did a photo edit for this, which you can see [here!](http://taeaelin.tumblr.com/post/138255763026/samui-sakura88-taeaelin-samui-sakura88-i) :0))

The science teacher was late. Again. Luckily, Adam had already read, summarised and categorised the whole of their _Discovering Physics_ textbook, and was halfway through _Astrobiology in Practice_ and _Quantum Mechanics- a Brief Introduction_.

Will snuck a peek over Adam’s shoulder at the two rather large textbooks, curving to a fond smirk. “Having trouble getting to sleep?”

Trying to figure out why Will was miming yawning and rolling his eyes, Adam blinked a few times, then nodded. “Honestly, yes. I have been finding it very difficult to sleep after the excitement of mass-spectrometry theory-”

For once, Will actually looked relieved as their teacher finally arrived, trying to settle the class. Sliding the books back into his satchel, Adam spotted the tiny paper package, the present he’d meant to give Will at lunch. Since no one else was quieting down, Adam tugged at his cousin’s sleeve.

“I got you and Hannibal something.” Eyes bright and eager, he nudged the package into Wills hands. When Will didn’t open it, Adam reached back and tipped it upside down over Will’s lap.

Carefully, Will picked up the objects. Two leather wristbands, each with a half-moon pendent attached. On one side, it said ‘ _Best_ ’, on the other it said…

“… _Friends?_ ” Will was grinning from ear to ear, staring at the gift in surprise. “Are you sure this is for me and _Hanni_ , Adam? Or me and you?”

“You and Hannibal” Adam confirmed. “You told me you were best friends, remember?”

Will appeared to be trying to keep a straight face. Adam very much hoped he succeeded- classes where Will had been sent to the Principal’s office were a lot less fun than classes where Will passed him silly drawings under the table. And Hannibal passed him incredibly anatomically-correct drawings.

“No, no, Adam” Will’s eyes were all creased at the corners as he tried a whisper. “I said me and Hannibal were _best friends._ ”

Adam tipped his head to one side. The only thing Will had done out of the ordinary, was say _best friends_ in a rather odd voice, and move his fingers to do quotation mark gestures in the air.

“Yes” Adam nodded. “Best friends, like how you and I are best friends.”

“No…” Will was definitely having a hard time stopping himself from laughing. It made Adam want to giggle too, seeing his usually-serious face all flushed and scrunchy. “I mean we’re _best friends_ … like how you and Nigel are _best friends_.”

“Oh!” Adam grinned, failing to keep his voice down. “Will, I think you’ve misunderstood, in that case. Nigel and I aren’t best friends, we’re lovers.”

Unable to help himself, Will snorted toward his textbook, the commotion not going unnoticed by their teacher.

“Will. Adam. If there’s something incredibly amusing about litmus tests, perhaps you’d be so kind as to share it with the rest of us?”

“No, sir” Adam was sincere. “Litmus tests aren’t funny at all. What’s funny is the fact that Will-”

“Forgot to do the homework!” Will blurted, loudly interrupting.

Adam had never heard his cousin make such an honest confession in his life.

“Alright you two. Out in the hall for five. And if I hear any more, you can guarantee I’ll be booking a full re-enactment of the routine for this Saturday.”

Will gave an apologetic wince, edging the door shut behind them as Adam trailed after, confused.

“Ugh. Sorry Adam. He means shush up or we’ll both get detention.”

“Oh.” Adam gave Will what he hoped was an encouraging smile. He’d never been to detention, but he knew it took place in the Library. Which was where Adam spent most Saturdays anyway. His face fell as he remembered the wristbands.

“So, do you think Hannibal won’t like my present then? I could exchange it for something else?” Noticing Will still looked a bit guilty, Adam tried his best to think of an appropriate joke. “…maybe one that says, _worst enemies_?”

Will chuckled, then slouched against the wall. “Knowing Hannibal, he’d probably take that as a compliment.”

Adam brimmed to a smile. Hannibal was about as difficult to understand as Nigel, and he loved them both all the more for it.

“Here…” Will murmured, gently taking Adan’s wrist. He slipped one of the wristbands over, tightening until it fit just right. The other he secured at his own.

“For me?” Adam held up his hand. He wasn’t sure Will had ever said anything like that before. But there it was, written on the half-moon shapes. Best friends.

“Yeah.” Will shrugged. “Is it okay? Do you like it?”

Adam could only stare. “Yes.” He wanted to give Will a hug, but, not sure it was the right thing to do, fished out the answers to last night’s homework instead, letting Will copy onto the palm of his hand. “…Forever?”

Will hugged him anyway. “Forever.”

-


	19. Adam and Nigel compete in a fun run

“Ni-Ni,” Adam knocked on the changing room door. Softly at first, then a bit harder when he wasn’t sure the silence within was entirely a good sign. “Are you going to let me see?”

“Mm… maybe not,” came the muffled response.

Adam squinted back toward the retail area. “Do you need me to bring you another size?”

“No, no… this is… the right size.”

Adam toyed with his sleeves, leaning against the wall opposite. “Are you sure, Ni? Because it kind of sounds like you’re struggling to breathe in there, and there’s no harm in trying a few different options.”

Nigel snorted. “Darling, one is bad enough, I’m not-”

“I’ll get the shop assistant. They’re really helpful when it comes to fittings.”

“ _Adam_ , wait, no-” there was a hasty shuffling sound from the other side of the door, followed by Nigel wrenching it open, face wrought with alarm.

Adam beamed, having not moved an inch. He surveyed Nigel’s outfit, skin-tight running leggings, reflective Adidas shirt and all.

“You look really good.”

Nigel blinked, slowly twitching to a fond glare. “You’ve been hanging out with me too long…”

“If by ‘ _hanging out_ ’, you are referring to the sort of things we _usually_ get up to in a changing room…” Adam waved his hands, trying to get Nigel to leave enough room to let him slip past, “then, not nearly long enough.”

With an affectionate smirk, Nigel found himself relenting, slouching against the mirror whilst Adam locked the door behind.

“I’d rather just wear my fucking jeans. It’s just a fun run. A halfway-charitable run. Whatever your colleagues call it…”

“A charity half-marathon?”

“That.”

Adam shook his head, then moved closer for a cuddle. “You’ll think differently when you’re jogging, believe me. I did it last year. It gets really hot. Also sweaty.”

“Like you’re going to be, if you keep looking at me like that?” Nigel grinned, caging a rough hand through Adam’s curls. Adam giggled, fingertips running along the lycra seams at Nigel’s torso.

“I’m not used to seeing your whole body through your clothes like this.”

Nigel couldn’t help a chuckle. Adam’s palms continued their exploration steadily downward.

“I mean it, Ni. I mean, even if we weren’t doing the event, I still think you need to wear this more often.”

Nigel shook his head, unable to keep back a smile “Fucking Christ, Adam. Are you sure you’re not getting a commission from this place? I’m just about ready to buy two, the way you’re-”

His voice caught in his throat as Adam’s touch very nearly finished the sentence for him, biting the inside of his cheek before things got truly out of hand.

“I solemnly swear I am not getting a commission from this place,” Adam dipped his head, sincere. “I also solemnly swear that I may be trying to get you home as quickly as possible however, preferably still wearing the outfit.”

Staring from Adam to the skin-tight pants and back again, Nigel raised an eyebrow. “Darling, considering I wasn’t keen to come out in these _before_ , there’s no fucking way I’m walking around in them _now_.”

-

By the time the morning of the half-marathon rolled around, sportswear was the last thing on Nigel’s mind. Gritting his teeth, he directed a mutter somewhere between Adam and the ground.

“I feel like I’ve seen some of these people before…”

“You have,” Adam chirped, waving to the very people Nigel had in mind. “That’s Tom, remember? You tied him to a tree in the laser-tag arena at our last staff social event. And Emily! We unravelled her scandalous scheme and won that trip to London instead of her.”

Feeling an encouraging elbow in his ribcage, Nigel tried a nod toward the familiar faces, only to see them both halt and swiftly redirect in the opposite direction.

“Water under the bridge, I’m sure.”

“Don’t worry,” Adam took a sip from his water bottle. “Work makes a charity donation for every person who completes the event, so it’s not about how fast you go.”

“Mm-hmm. Roger that, darling.” For someone who agreed, Nigel did seem to be engaging in some rather vigorous warm-up stretches.

Frowning, Adam watched as Nigel couched into a starting sprint position, signalling for him to do the same. Everyone else was just milling around, chatting, watching the referee countdown...

Slowly, Adam tried to copy the stance, feeling rather unsteady with his bum pointing into the air. “Nigel… why are we posed like this? Have you been watching re-runs of the Olympics again?”

“Yes. But that’s not the point.” Nigel whispered, eyes fixed steadily ahead. “If we don’t get a lead at the very beginning, we’ll be pushing through the pack the entire race.”

“Except that it’s not a _race_ -” Adam clarified again, “-management actually calls this a teambuilding activity, because we all stick to-”

The starting beep echoed over the rest of his words, and Nigel leapt forward like he’d been resting on an ant’s nest.

“Run, baby!” he bellowed, spinning around to see Adam hadn’t moved an inch, mouth hung open in surprise. “Run run run run!”

Scrambling as Adam saw Tom and Emily breeze past, Adam wasn’t sure what the sudden rush was, only that Nigel seemed to be using more energy making wild arm movements than he’d need for the miles ahead.

“I’m running, Nigel!” Adam caught up, which thankfully seemed to solve the problem of Nigel shouting at the top of his lungs. “I’m-”

Nigel took his arm, charging through the colleagues that had overtaken them so far. With his free hand, Adam tried to give a friendly wave and a smile. Given the glowers he received in return, he concluded everyone must still be grumpy from the early morning start.

It didn’t take long to put a considerable distance between them and the larger part of the group. And, despite the shaky outset, Adam actually found he wasn’t too bad at keeping Nigel’s pace once he got into the rhythm of it. He gave a breathless laugh.

“See! This is fun, right?”

Nigel grinned across at him, hair dripping over his eyes. “Very fun.”

Looking forward, Adam’s smile wavered as he squinted at two silhouettes in the distance. They seemed to be having some difficulty climbing over one of the park fences.

“Oh!”

The figures had disappeared from view before Nigel caught a glimpse. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“It’s Tom and Emily,” Adam furrowed his brow in concern. “I think they’re getting lost. They just took the woodland trail, when the map clearly specifies we’re supposed to stay on the main circuit.”

Nigel skidded to a halt. “What woodland trail?”

Wiping sweat from his upper lip, Adam pointed where his colleagues had vanished between the trees. “The cross-country one. The one that cuts across the park.”

Despite the fact they were standing still, Nigel seemed to be breathing with more and more intensity. “They’re not getting lost, baby, they’ll finish in half the time! They’re fucking _cheating!_ ”

Adam wriggled his water bottle free of his belt pouch, gently nudging it toward Nigel’s hand. Rather than drinking, Nigel squeezed a great deal of water over his head instead. Drenched and blinking, he grimaced at the fence as if trying to retrieve the couple in question with willpower alone.

Adam cleared his throat.

“As I said, Nigel, since it isn’t actually a _race_ -”

Nigel’s face fell, stare slipping to the ground.

“-we technically can’t _cheat_. So, for health and safety reasons, I think it would be irresponsible of us to let Tom and Emily take the woodland trail alone. Who knows what could happen.”

Nigel glanced up in surprise. Slowly, his eyes creased at the corners. “They might… run into a rogue pack of squirrels.”

“Or a wild gardener, collecting leaves for the compost facility,” Adam nodded, solemn. Tucking the water bottle back in his belt, he reached for Nigel’s hand. “But I know one thing that _won’t_ be happening.”

Mouth pulling up at one side, Nigel almost forgot to move when Adam tugged him toward the fence. “Mm?”

“Them finishing first.” Adam confirmed, placing a hand on Nigel’s shoulder as his the taller man knelt to give him a leg-up. Landing on his feet at the other side, Adam jogged a few backwards steps, beaming whilst Nigel swung himself over with ease. “So, you’d better hurry up already. Because from here on in, we _really_ have to run!”

-

As messy as it was, there was something about dodging fallen logs, tripping on numerous cavities in the soil, and getting a face full of spider-web that Adam found added a certain excitement to the jogging experience.

“How did you get so fit, anyway?” Nigel puffed over his shoulder, scouting in front and pushing aside the worst of the branches.

“I’m hardly fit!” Adam spluttered, giving a thumbs up and shaking his head when Nigel tried to slow down. “But I’ve been doing fifty-nine minutes on the treadmill the past few weeks after work.”

“Fifty- _nine_ minutes?”

“One episode of Inside the Actors Studio-” Adam panted, urging Nigel to continue “-minus the end credits.”

Nigel paused regardless, rubbing between Adam’s shoulder blades while he gulped down a few extra breaths. “Still. We’ve been going pretty hard for a while now. Fucking impressed to be honest.”

With legs like jelly and his head lighter than popcorn, Adam felt more flushed from the comment than he had the entire run.

“I’m… happy to be on the home stretch though!” he managed, pointing to the grassy sports oval beyond the trees.

As they cleared the crest of the hill, it really was just bad luck that Tom and Emily happened to be looking up at that exact second. The two faces crumpled in horror at the same time Adam’s lit up in glee.

“Ni! They haven’t crossed the line! We can do this!”

Winded and dizzy and utterly exhausted, Adam tore down the slope, Nigel at his side. Adam had never felt like he was _chasing_ anyone before. As he saw Tom spin around, bolting as if the hounds of hell were on his heels, he had to admit… it felt quite like an adventure.

That was, until Tom veered toward the ride-on lawnmower left unattended by the park gardener. Pouncing aboard, he had the ignition started and was speeding ahead before Emily had a hope of jumping on. Adam couldn’t believe his eyes. Firstly, he hadn’t thought a lawnmower could be driven so fast. Secondly, he hadn’t thought he would ever get to see one being commandeered. By Tom. From the mail room.

“Fucking Christ, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

“Well that really _is_ cheating!” Adam yelped, wishing he could make his legs move faster. The sound of the lawnmower grew more and more distant. “He’s getting away…”

“Darling.” Nigel stopped, cupped Adam’s face in both hands and kissed him like he would never let go. “Not a fucking chance.”

It wasn’t until Nigel sprinted in pursuit that Adam realised just how much he must have been holding back the whole time. And, whilst he suspected the mass-exit of frisbee-players and dog-walkers from the oval were somehow related to Tom and Nigel’s activities… he had never felt prouder.

“What, does your boyfriend think he’s the terminator?” Emily scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“I’d say there is a reasonable chance in the affirmative” Adam considered, thoughtful. He got distracted when he saw the overall-clad caretaker emerging from the nearest row of hedges, yelling after Tom in alarm. “Does your boyfriend… think he’s the gardener?”

Emily stared rather blankly at the furious park employee. And then she smiled. “I’d say there’s a higher-than average chance in the affirmative.”

Up ahead, Adam saw Nigel take a flying leap onto the back of the vehicle, pulling Tom free and still managing to roll over the finish line first. He wasn’t sure which of them was swearing louder. Or gesturing harder. Or laughing more.

Making double-time across the lawn, Adam waved at Nigel, overjoyed. Nigel pumped a fist in the air, then pointed at Adam. Then at himself. And then at Adam again.

“For you!”

Adam was laughing too. It really did make it difficult to run.

“For victory!”

He very nearly thought Nigel was going to swing him around when they finally hugged. Luckily, they were about as wobbly as each other, and settled for stumbling to the ground instead.

“ _Disqualified_.” The half-marathon administrator interrupted, frowning at the abandoned lawnmower, followed by the spot they had all emerged from the woods.

Nigel took a deep breath, sprawling back against the grass. “It’s alright…”

Adam lay beside, an odd mix of guilty and pleased at the same time. Nigel nudged a kiss to his cheek, winking just enough that Adam could catch it.

“…It wasn’t a race, after all.”

-


	20. Adam, Nigel, and the excitement of flat tyres

Adam had always liked things that logically went together. Macaroni and cheese went together. Nigel putting potato chips in a jelly sandwich did not go together. Late evenings and reading went together. Late evenings and Nigel doing reps down the hallway because he’d run out of gym-time did not go together. Driving down the central shopping avenue and listening to ABBA’s ‘Money, Money, Money’ went together. Driving down the central shopping avenue and listening to the sudden sound of their front tyre exploding…

That definitely didn’t go together.

“Motherfucking almighty fuck, what the _fuck_ was that!”

Adam had also bounced from his seat in alarm, his smaller exclamation of ‘ _jeepers!_ ’ thoroughly submerged in the outpouring of curse words from the driver-side. The song continued, flavouring Nigel’s language with a cheery chorus of ‘ _it’s a rich man’s world!_ ’

“Nigel, I think we may have a flat” Adam hurried, having to speak rather loudly as Nigel slammed a fist into the radio, succeeding only in hurting his hand and increasing the volume.

Adam nipped a finger forward, the music cutting out just as Nigel took a deep breath in preparation for some more vigorous expressions.

He let it out just as quickly, glancing at the smaller man in surprise. Adam smiled. Nigel frowned.

“Ah. I’m sorry, darling-” gently, he pulled the car to the curb. “-getting a bit carried away there.”

“A lot carried away,” Adam agreed, unbuckling his seatbelt. “But that’s alright. Now we can finally put the toolkit to good use!”

Adam clearly remembered Nigel had felt a 45-piece emergency toolkit for an inner-city vehicle was excessive, and thoroughly looked forward to an occasion where his partner might be proved wrong. Seeing Nigel remove a single wrench from the kit however… Adam wasn’t quite sure this was it.

Leaning over to kiss the side of Adam’s mouth, Nigel winked before kneeling to the tyre in question. Using the wrench handle, he popped free the hubcap as easily as if it were a lid of paint, grinning as Adam’s mouth fell apart in surprise.

“You make it look very effortless, Ni-Ni.”

Nigel made some kind of gravelly scoffing sound, hunching closer to loosen the five hexagon-shaped bolts on the wheel beneath. But Adam knew he was pleased.

As Nigel reached for the scissor jack, his tight-fitting shirt riding up to reveal a crescent of tanned skin, Adam found himself unexpectedly pleased too. Fidgeting his hands into the sleeves of his cardigan, Adam felt he was staring rather intensely as Nigel inserted the rod into the mechanism, cranking until the flat was leveraged from the road.

The whole thing was making Nigel’s arms flex quite a bit. Sweat was also leaking down the side of his face, his hair all messed and matted and caught over his eyes. And he was breathing a lot harder than normal. In fact, minus the pavement, pedestrians and all the shops surrounding them, Nigel really did look awfully similar to how he looked when-

“- _Baby?_ Baby? You doing okay?”

Adam swiftly nodded, all of a sudden realising Nigel had been speaking to him. Nigel gave a crooked grin, wiping a bead of moisture from his upper lip with the back of his wrist.

“I was asking if you could pass me the spare?”

Staring blankly where Nigel had jerked his jaw, Adam saw the new tyre nestled neatly inside trunk, waiting to be handed to Nigel. Somewhat clumsily, he first tried to roll it, then decided he had seen too many movies which featured tyres escaping down the road in this manner, and hoisted it directly into Nigel’s lap instead.

Eyes creasing at the corners, Nigel lifted the tyre off his jeans, then struggled to his feet.

“Sweetheart, are you sure nothing’s up? If I’m about to make a fucking hash of this, feel free to holler. Bit different to my old bike actually-”

“It isn’t. You’re not,” Adam squirmed “I just-”

He paused, aware of the foot traffic behind them and the need to phrase his answer discreetly.

“-feel incredibly sexually excited watching you work on the car like that. I was imagining you in an automobile service centre, bending me over one of the car bonnets, and-”

As several passers-by eyed Adam in surprise, their attention was just as rapidly diverted as the tyre slipped from Nigel’s grip, gave a large bounce and launched itself down the street, all whilst Nigel stood blinking in surprise.

“Ni… Nigel, _Nigel!_ ” Adam babbled, flapping his arms in the general direction of the disappearing tyre.

Abruptly shaking his head, Nigel recovered enough to bolt after it, a small serenade of fucks accompanying his pursuit as he managed to catch up just before the lights. Returning triumphant, Nigel didn’t look half as breathless from the run as he had on hearing the confession in the first place.

“Did I say the wrong thing?” Adam mumbled, cheeks blushing warm.

“What? No.” Placing the tyre flat on its side, Nigel gave a low chuckle, then stepped forward to pull Adam into a kiss. It was Adam’s turn to be utterly shocked. He didn’t think Nigel was even that keen on holding hands out and about, let alone sticking his tongue down Adam’s throat in the middle of busiest shopping district in the city. Not that he was complaining.

Very _very_ not complaining.

“…what was that for?” Adam gasped, more flushed and wobbly than any amount of rogue tyres could have possibly rendered.

“For you.” Nigel shrugged, leaning back down to fit the spare in place. Reaching for the wrench, Adam didn’t miss the coy smile as he set back to the task, making a somewhat bigger effort of each twist and tighten than the work seemed to require previously.

Adam enjoyed every bit of it. Cars and breakdowns may not have been things that happily went together. Him and Nigel were.

-


	21. Adam and Nigel- The Breakfast Club (au)

Welcome to The Breakfast Club AU!<3 This started as a short story, but now [continues as a full-length fic and art project!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6661486) Thank you so much for your support and encouragement and I hope you enjoy! *^^*

-

Adam blinked at the clock on the wall. 9:02am and the principal still hadn’t arrived. He knew it was a Saturday. And detention wasn’t actually class. But they were at school. They were in the library, to be exact. And when you were at school, in the library, and the principal had _said_ that detention would commence at 9:00am, and it _didn’t_ commence at 9:00am…

Adam fidgeted in his chair, unable to stop looking from his wristwatch, to his phone, to the wall clock again. He could feel his heart beating a little faster, making that uncomfortable humming sensation at his throat. Andrew Clarke was making a loud clicking noise with his chewing gum. Adam wanted to cover his ears, or ask if he could please stop. He didn’t consider either of these actions unreasonable, but then again, that was a very similar thought to the one that had landed him in detention in the first place.

9:03am. Adam couldn’t take it anymore. He pushed his desk back, intending only to stand up and give himself some room to breathe. Instead, the flimsy wooden table tipped over completely, sending his notepaper and assorted stationary clattering to the floor, not to mention the colossal bang of the desk that followed. Leaping back in alarm, Adam’s hands flew to his mouth as he took in the mistake, the rest of his peers silent and staring at him.

That was when the principal walked in.

He was a new principal. _In it for himself_ , was how the rest of senior form described him. Adam still wasn’t quite sure why, but he had to admit, the teacher really didn’t smile very much. And he definitely wasn’t smiling now.

“Who did this?”

Adam couldn’t help but feel he was the obvious culprit, standing red-faced in front of the expanding mess. But he also knew he too sometimes needed clarification on things that seemed to make sense to everyone else. He only wished his throat wasn’t so tight, so he could actually answer.

“Let’s try again. When I ask a question-”

“I did.”

Several sets of eyes flicked to the edge of the room, including Adam’s. He hadn’t even noticed the student sitting there, all sprawled over his chair like he was melting, glaring at them from beneath some tangled windswept curtain that Adam assumed was hair.

The principal was smiling now at least. Adam wasn’t convinced he was very happy though, as his voice fell several tones lower.

“Is that so, Vilkas? From all the way up the back too. I’m sure it was quite the party trick.”

_Vilkas._ Adam recognised the name from the soccer team lists in the school yearbook. _Nigel_ Vilkas, from the grade above.

“I’ll give you an encore, if you’re so fuckin’ keen.” Nigel had nodded toward the empty desk at Adam’s side, a murmur of amusement ripping round the room.

Adam knotted his eyebrows. He had no idea what encore Nigel was referring to, the closest the taller boy had ever come to knocking over a desk was… well, lying about knocking over a desk.

“Congratulations Vilkas, booked yourself next weekend too. Another word and it’ll be four of a kind.”

Adam was still trying to swallow as the detention assignment task got chalked up on the board, the library door slamming rather vigorously on their head teacher’s exit. To his surprise, Adam actually felt more relieved now that they were comparatively alone again, even if it did break from routine. Quietly, he pulled the desk back into place, scooping together his pens resetting each one on the surface according to colour and size. When he looked back up, half his spilled notepaper had been placed there too.

The other half was still on the ground. And right beside it was Nigel, mixing lined with grid and double-spaced with plain. Adam squeezed shut his eyes, taking a deep breath and trying very hard not to appear as horrified as he felt. When he opened them, he saw Nigel had stopped sorting, placing the papers slowly down and frowning at his lap.

Adam could have burst into tears. The incident with the desk was humiliating enough. Now Nigel was surely going to ask him why he was behaving so oddly over a couple of papers, and nothing about his explanation would ever fix it. Sometimes Adam _wished_ he didn’t care about things like papers, or things running on time, or-

“So how’d you land a Saturday anyway?”

Adam felt his mouth un-scrunch. Nigel was reclining against the desk opposite, long legs stretched across the floor, crossed at the ankles. The question had sounded a bit mumbled, and Adam now saw that was because he had a cigarette hanging from one side of his mouth, lighter at the ready.

“I… said the wrong thing to the substitute teacher. Well, it was the right thing, actually, I mean, if you take into account current astro-theories. The models presented in our handout were very outdated.”

Adam crumpled his nose, not used to anyone smoking right next to him, even if Nigel was holding it aside. But Nigel looked very relaxed, even if he was breaking several school rules. It made Adam feel strangely at ease too, enough to attempt a smile at least. Nigel gave one back, kind of unevenly. Actually, more like a twitch at the corner of his mouth. The more Adam thought about it, the more he wondered if it hadn’t actually been some momentary spasm. And now he was offering the cigarette.

“Oh. Thank you.” Hesitating, Adam reached for the stick. He had always considered smoking a bit gross, and, if he were honest with himself, sort of pointless. But it felt different, being asked if he wanted to do something, rather than it being assumed that he didn’t. He held on, pinching the paper rather awkwardly between his thumb and forefinger and taking the smallest of sips.

“And how did you… _land_ _a Saturday_?” Adam didn’t think the phrase flowed quite the same when he said it, but he supposed it didn’t help that he started coughing incredibly violently halfway through. Eyes watering, he tried to give Nigel a thumbs-up. Nigel raised an eyebrow, then gently retrieved the smoke, crushing the butt against the leg of the table.

“Being a smartass? I dunno. I’m losing track.”

“You almost broke my fucking nose, Vilkas.”

Adam flinched in alarm. He’d been so focused on Nigel that he’d completely forgotten there were other students in the room at all. And now Andrew Clarke was standing over them, eyes narrowing and legs spread wide.

Nigel didn’t seem at all put out. Glancing up, he gave a leisurely wink, raising his hand to mime a gunshot. “Ah. Yep, that’s the one. Cheers, pal.”

“For no reason at all,” Andrew huffed, not looking like he was about to move anytime soon.

“You said you wanted to fight.”

“I said you couldn’t beat me in a _wrestling match_. As in, standard fighting circle, standard federation rules.”

The way Andrew was crossing his arms made Adam wonder if he kept a copy of said rules down his varsity jacket, ready to pull out in instances just like this. When no such book emerged, he turned back to Nigel, whose mouth was doing that crooked pulling thing again.

_Spasm_ , Adam decided. _Definitely a spasm._

“Well, darling, if you wanted to roll around with me on a mat, should have said so in the first-”

A loud bang echoed over the tail of the remark, Adam jumping out of his skin for what felt like the tenth time that morning. It seemed the principal was no less able to come and go quietly than Andrew was able to look at Nigel and breathe in reasonable quantities. Nigel hadn’t even blinked.

“Back to your seat, Clarke.”

Glare dropping to his shoes, Andrew did as he was told.

“And you, Vilkas.”

Without meaning to, Adam gave a low whimper, liking the idea of being left up the front with the head teacher less and less. He could feel himself blushing as Nigel flicked him a glance. For the first time, the older boy actually looked surprised.

“Catch you round, kid,” he muttered, dragging himself to his feet.

“It’s Adam,” Adam blurted, far too loudly in the silent space, “I know your first name’s Nigel, and that you’re in the Soccer A team, but I’m not in any teams, or… clubs, so… um, you… might not see my name anywhere, but it’s Adam.”

From the snigger that travelled around the room, Adam realised he had spoken for longer than was considered normal or appropriate. But he couldn’t take it back, just like he couldn’t take back correcting the substitute, or flipping the desk, or-

“Cool. Catch you round then, Adam.”

As Nigel slouched back into his original spot, Adam noticed no-one was laughing anymore. The principal hadn’t in the first place. But he did seem to be staring at Nigel rather hard.

“He isn’t on the soccer team anymore, Raki,” the teacher purred. “Have to maintain at least a C-point average for that privilege.”

Adam smiled over his shoulder, expecting Nigel to snap back with some clever remark. Instead, Nigel just seemed to be staring at the front wall, not really seeing it. The meaning of the words sinking in, Adam’s face slowly fell.

“And has someone been _smoking_ in here?”

Pulse quickening, Adam kept his eyes resolutely fixed on the desk in front of him, crossing his fingers to prevent somehow letting on that he knew.

“Clarke. Answer me. Who was smoking?”

Adam bit his tongue in despair. Andrew had definitely seen. And from his recent exchange with Nigel, he was pretty sure they weren’t on favourable terms.

“Beats me.”

Adam let out the breath he was holding. Did Andrew just _lie_?

“Raki.”

Adam felt his legs turn to jelly.

“Was someone smoking in this library?”

Adam gripped the edges of his desk, knuckles turning white. He could’ve sworn he could hear the ticking of the second hand on the clock above them. Or maybe it was his heartbeat, whirring at his eardrums.

“Yes.”

The principal broke into a wide smile, triumphant. “Who?”

Adam made an incoherent sound, then cleared his throat, trying again.

“Me.”

The teacher’s expression tightened somewhat, even more so when Andrew snorted a laugh.

“You. You, are telling me that you, Adam Raki, smoked in this library?”

Adam nodded solemnly, feeling slightly more confident despite the fact that his hands were shaking worse than a milkshake mixer. He wasn’t sure the principal even believed him. But that didn’t matter. It was true. He took another gulp of air.

“I… I can give you a demonstration, if you’re so very keen.”

When the room echoed with amusement for a second time, Adam felt there was something different about it to before. He had heard plenty of people laugh at the things he said for the wrong reasons. This time, he felt he had said the right thing, at the right time. But more importantly…

For the right reason.

A red slip of paper smacked on the desk in front of him. Another Saturday.

Gathering the last of his courage, or recklessness, or both, Adam peeked toward the back of the class. Nigel was already staring at him, sitting far straighter than Adam had yet seen, expression just as uneven.

“Catch you round, Nigel,” Adam managed.

Nigel smiled back. With both sides of his mouth this time.

-


	22. Adam and Nigel watch a horror movie

Adam surveyed the contents of his backpack, silently counting-off the items in his head. _Blankets, popcorn, soda, bottled water, chocolates, mint lollies, two spare jumpers, flashlight, inflatable backrest-_

“Baby?” Nigel poked his head over Adam’s shoulder, nuzzling his jaw into the smaller man’s neck. “You’re just taking me to the cinema, right?”

“Right.” Adam confirmed, squishing down the middle of the bag so that he could get the zipper closed. Smiling, he turned around to give Nigel a hug. “Why would you think otherwise?”

“Ah. No reason,” Nigel hummed, squeezing snugly back.

“Ni-Ni, you’re tickling me,” Adam laughed, Nigel’s stubble all scratchy at his cheeks.

“Sorry, darling.” Nigel grinned, looking as un-sorry as Adam could imagine. Which only made Adam want to cuddle him more.

“You might want to save your hugging for the film.” Adam winked, trying to do it speedily like Nigel did. “It’s supposed to be one of the scariest this season.”

“Oh?” Nigel made a twitchy-movement with his eyebrows that Adam hadn’t quite figured out how to replicate. “What’s that?”

Grabbing the house keys, Adam set a brisk pace to the front door. Five minutes to walk there, ten to use the bathroom and find their seats, fifteen in case Nigel got them lost doing either of the former. Turning back, he gave his most solemn nod.

“ _Night of the Living Snakes_.”

Nigel hadn’t moved from the kitchen. Blinking, he cleared his throat.

“Well. Wouldn’t be much of a film if they were dead snakes.”

Adam held open the door as Nigel caught up, backpack bumping into the frame as they both tried to leave at once. Adam felt he were perhaps missing something as they walked hand-in-hand to the cinema, he just couldn’t figure out what it was. The answer suddenly clicked as he saw the crowd leaving from the session prior, many of them wearing the python-shaped scarves and headdresses that seemed to be making a comeback in the _Living Snakes_ franchise.

“They are!” Adam exclaimed, tugging Nigel closer to the front row.

“Hmm?” Nigel gripped his hand a little tighter.

“They are dead snakes,” Adam whispered, happily patting the seat next to him. “It’s an entire film about carnivorous zombie snakes.”

Nigel pulled his face into a frown of deep excitement, tucking his arm swiftly around Adam’s shoulders as soon as they’d sat down.

-

_3 billion human lives ended on August 29, 1997. The survivors of the nuclear fire called the war Judgment Day. They lived only to face a new nightmare, the war against the snakes. The computer which controlled the snakes, Snakenet, sent two snakes back through time…_

“Goodness, they really went for a sci-fi spin with this one,” Adam murmured, nudging the box of homemade popcorn in Nigel’s direction. Nigel didn’t seem to notice it, then flinched in alarm as one of the kernels fell into his lap.

Eager to strike a balance between helpful interruptions and actual film-watching, Adam waited until a sufficient number of reptiles had slithered across the screen before gently bumping Nigel again.

“Are you cold? I… can feel you shivering?”

Nigel shook his head and then nodded it. Adam retrieved one of the blankets from his backpack and threw it over him. Nigel sat stiffly beneath, glancing down as if not quite sure what to do with it. Crossing his arms rather tightly, he uncrossed them to pull the blanket slightly higher after several harrowing screams echoed round the space.

“Quite an interesting application of computer-generated imagery, isn’t it?” Adam mused, brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to determine whether the triangular mesh method really was the most effective means to make every surface look like it were made of slime.

“…Yes.”

Reaching for a can of lemonade, Adam cracked the seal with a loud hiss, very nearly dropping it when Nigel gave an equally loud yell.

“Don’t worry, I brought bottled water too!” Adam said quickly, giving an encouraging smile as Nigel raised his hands in apology, muttering something about a sudden leg cramp.

Adam tried to slurp the drink as quietly as possible, deciding the noteworthy decrease in number of snakes per scene likely meant a fast-paced running sequence was just around the corner.

“I’m… really glad we’re watching this,” Adam ventured, wondering if Nigel would really be able to catch all the key plot points with his eyes half-shut.

“So am I. So glad.”

“And not that ridiculous film that’s showing in the theatre opposite, about people singing and dancing in high school.”

Nigel gave a vigorous enough snort to disturb several neighbouring patrons. “ _Fuck_ no.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

“I don’t think the previews have finished, if you want to pop next-”

Nigel had scooped the backpack, blanket, popcorn and half-empty soda into his arms before Adam had finished the sentence.

“Anything for you, darling.”

-


	23. Adam and Nigel- The Breakfast Club (au) Part 2

Part 2 of The Breakfast Club AU!<3 This started as a short story, but [now continues as a full-length fic and art project!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6661486) I hope you like it! *^^*

-

It wasn’t always easy to notice people around the hallways when you kept your eyes glued to the ground. But Nigel was the kind of person who made himself noticed. And the kind of person you missed when he was gone.

Adam glanced up from his salad roll. Across the cafeteria, he could see Claire Standish sitting with her friends, laughing over something in a magazine. He’d thought about writing her a note, but then, they never sat close enough in class for him to be able to give it her. And besides, he really needed an answer back.

The group stopped talking as Adam approached, the magazine slipped beneath a textbook that didn’t quite cover it.

“Hi Adam?”

“Hi Claire.”

Adam tried not to leave too long a gap in between the greeting and everything else he had practiced in his head, but it was a lot trickier with everyone staring at him. He took a deep breath.

“I was wondering if you knew where Nigel Vilkas was. He didn’t turn up for Saturday detention on the weekend, and I haven’t seen him at his locker. And there are significantly less people smoking behind the science block this week too, compared to usual, I mean, which was quite a lot. So I just thought you might know, because I saw you two together that one time, and you looked extremely close, and-”

“Adam _, Adam,_ ” Claire appeared to be trying to shake her head, and also speak without actually opening her mouth. Adam fell silent as one of her companions giggled, and Claire shot a glare across the table.

“I don’t know where he is,” she said quietly, “I just know that he got suspended.”

Adam blinked. Somehow, he felt the information should have made more sense to him. In fact, it was probably the _only_ scenario that hadn’t played out in his mind. And, now that it was, it made his chest feel a lot tighter than all the others.

“Oh. Okay.”

Adam turned around and walked out of the lunchroom. He was already halfway down the stairs to the science labs before Claire caught him, satchel banging against her knees as she came to a breathless halt.

“Adam, hold up! Where you going?”

“To class.” Adam answered, the bell ringing over his words.

“Right.” Claire bit her lip, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She was glancing from side to side, and Adam began wondering if he had been remiss in their earlier exchange.

“Thank you for telling me about Nigel,” he added, realising he might have ended the conversation too abruptly.

“No no, it’s cool,” Claire did a half-smile. Adam smiled too, until he realised that was the kind of smile Nigel usually did, which somehow made the expression slip away from him. As he made to leave, Claire reached a hand toward his arm, which made him twitch without meaning to.

“Sorry,” Adam said quickly. He didn’t actually mind friendly gestures with people he knew, but he found it hard not to get a surprise, if he didn’t know when they were going to happen.

Which was usually… always.

“What? No, don’t be.” Claire looked upset, and Adam wished he had the right words to explain that he was okay, and knew she was just trying to be nice. He reached out to pat her arm instead, not quite sure it was as reassuring as he intended. Especially as her expression now kind of reminded him of when a soccer ball hit him in the stomach and he couldn’t breathe for five minutes after.

“Um, would you like some water?” Adam frowned at the drinking fountain at the bottom of the stairwell, remembering that seemed to help at the time.

“Oh, no,” Claire wiped her eyes, giving a small laugh. “Adam, listen. I just…”

“Hey! _Claire!_ Found your replacement for the prom pretty quick huh?” A kid Adam didn’t recognise barrelled past them, jerking his thumb toward Adam.

“No, and it still won’t be you, jerkwad,” Claire scoffed back, rolling her eyes in disgust when the older boy mimed getting shot in the heart, complete with some fairly grotesque choking noises.

“Idiot,” she shook her head, facing back to Adam. “Look, I just wanted to say something. Like, tell you something. About Nigel.”

“Okay.” Even whilst he knew class was about to start, Adam suddenly felt a lot less fidgety.

“It’s just that… yeah. I don’t know if you know him all that well, but… he’s a senior. And he’s graduating in like a few months. If he even comes back at all.”

Adam blinked, not completely sure he was following, but memorising Claire’s phrasing to consider later.

“So it’s just… I don’t know. You just… seem really nice. And smart. I mean, I’ve seen you in accelerated math and everything.”

“It’s not very hard, once you understand the basic principles,” Adam ventured, unsure if Claire was trying to ask for help with her homework.

“Yeah, once you understand the actual hard bit,” Claire laughed, interrupting herself. Adam grinned. They both stood a little less stiffly.

“I think what I’m trying to say...” Claire fished her hands into her skirt pockets, her gaze moving from the floor to Adam’s eyes. “Is that Nigel’s an interesting guy, you know? But he’s also kind of messed up. And… he’s the kind of guy who can mess you up. And he’s going to be gone soon anyway, even if he _wasn’t_ caught carrying, so-”

“Wait,” Adam had to ask, or he knew he wouldn’t figure it out later. “What do you mean, caught carrying? What was he carrying?”

“ _Raki!_ Standish! Not who I’d expect to find loitering in the hallways between class.”

Adam jumped at the familiar tone, the school principal’s voice thundering down the stairs behind them. Claire flinched in distress.

“Let’s go,” she hissed, urging Adam to move as well. “But that’s exactly what I mean.”

“What is?” Adam hurried to keep up with her as they skimmed the steps, the principal’s footsteps echoing in the narrow passageway behind.

“I mean,” she whispered, ducking toward the language labs while he veered toward science block. “That’s _exactly_ the kind of thing you don’t want to find out.”

-

It wasn’t that hard to find Nigel’s address. According to the telephone book, weren’t many Vilkas’s in the whole of the state, let alone within a reasonable radius of the school.

Knocking on the front door… well, that was a lot harder.

Pushing open the gate, Adam couldn’t help but think the house wasn’t what he had expected. Nigel was always wearing something torn, scuffed or otherwise ill-fitting at school, his too-big boots and too-tight jeans usually causing some kind of fuss when it came to yearbook photograph day. But this house, if anything, was neat. There weren’t any leaflets scattered around the mailbox, nor stray shoes on the front steps. The blinds were all closed. Adam didn’t really think it looked like anyone lived there at all.

He had paced around outside for a few minutes before realising he probably looked rather suspicious, trying to see if there was a tiny crack in any of the windows. It had also been a very long bicycle ride to the opposite side of town, and he really really needed to use the bathroom. Holding his breath, Adam gave a loud thump on the door.

There was no answer.

The adrenaline sifting out of his system, he started to feel a bit silly. The phone book had also listed a telephone number, which he could’ve easily called instead of turning up unannounced. Wondering what on earth he was going to do about a lavatory, he gave a desperate glance at some of the pot plants near the front gate, feeling like this was the very opposite of the sort of gesture he’d hoped to extend his new acquaintance.

Behind him there was a sudden scraping noise, and Adam wheeled around to see Nigel wrenching the door open. His eyebrows were pinched together at the middle, quickly pulling upward as he saw Adam.

“What the fuck?”

Adam exhaled, insurmountably relieved Nigel hadn’t waited a minute longer.

“Hello,” Adam started, trying not to be thrown by Nigel’s unusual greeting. “I noticed you haven’t been at school, so I brought you some homework. May I please use your toilet?”

Nigel blinked, still entirely blocking the doorway.

“If it’s alright with your parents, I mean?” Adam squirmed from one foot to the other.

“They’re not home,” Nigel stepped back, still looking somewhat lost for words. “Up the stairs, second on the left.”

Adam scrambled past, remembering to call out a thank-you before slamming the door shut behind him. It wasn’t until he was washing his hands that Adam realised he must’ve left his backpack on the front steps, having taken it off whilst trying to catch a glimpse through the windows. That and seven senior-level textbooks did get awfully heavy after a while.

Not used to being forgetful, Adam felt more than a little nervous when he stepped out of the bathroom. The feeling faded as soon as he saw Nigel waiting for him, backpack slung over his shoulder. He wasn’t looking quite so shocked as when he first saw Adam, and gave a jerk of his head toward the room at the end of the hall.

“You ‘right?”

“Much better, thank you,” Adam said sincerely, following Nigel into his bedroom. Like the rest of the house, it was rather large… and rather empty.

Swinging the textbooks onto the floor, Nigel sprawled himself just as untidily beside, back against the wall, legs stretched every which way. When Adam remained standing in the middle of the room, he kicked aside some clothes, which left a small space for Adam to sit cross-legged.

“We’re not in the same classes though,” Nigel grimaced toward the schoolbooks, looking rather like he’d have preferred to kick those aside instead.

“I know. Which is why I checked the classlists on the board outside the staffroom, and brought you the weekly readings from _your_ classes.”

Nigel made a noise that sounded halfway between a laugh and being strangled.

“Fuckin’ making my day here, Adam.”

Adam gave a tentative smile, not quite sure if Nigel was joking. Nigel didn’t seem _unhappy_ to see him, but it was hard enough to tell what people were thinking in general, let alone when he really wanted to. Luckily, he had already considered the possibility that Nigel may not be in the mood to do classwork, and had already pre-prepared several topics of conversation for if that were the case.

“I hear the senior prom is coming up,” Adam raised his intonation a little at the end of the sentence, which was a way to let someone know he was curious to hear their thoughts on the matter.

“Yeah. Not for anyone who’s currently suspended though.”

“Oh.” That threw Adam off-track. He hadn't even considered it.

“S’fine,” Nigel added, slightly gentler. “Was only going to piss Claire’s father off anyway.”

“Claire Standish?” Adam blurted, suddenly remembering the obnoxious comment about her not having a date.

“Yeah.” Nigel raised an eyebrow, but didn’t ask anything further.

“Why would you taking Claire to the dance annoy her father?” Adam continued. It wasn’t the course he’d expected the discussion to take, but he was genuinely curious.

Nigel snorted, his gaze falling to his lap when Adam tilted his head to one side, solemn.

“Guess I’m not the kind of guy he’d like to see her with. Probably why she asked me.”

“But would you like to go with her?” Adam encouraged, tugging the sleeves of his cardigan down over his hands.

“Christ, I dunno Adam, would _you_?” Nigel crossed and uncrossed his legs, which made Adam think leaning against the wall wasn’t a very comfortable position.

“No, I’m happy going by myself.” Adam reached for one of the stray pillows that had fallen off the bed. He offered it to Nigel to put behind his back, a gesture which only seemed to confuse the older student.

“Cheers,” Nigel mumbled, finally getting the idea. After a short silence, he cleared his throat. “Hey, do you want anything? Like, a coke, or a beer or something?”

“Yes.” Adam brimmed to a smile. In truth, he wasn’t thirsty, but he understood Nigel was trying to be friendly, and he wanted to be friendly back.

“Uh, so, beer? Or I could find some vodka, if that’s more your-”

“Do you have lemon soda?” Adam interrupted, realising what Nigel had actually asked.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Nigel grinned, dragging himself to his feet and out the door.

Adam could hear his boots thumping all the way down the stairs. Humming, he bounced his knees a little, his hands wandering to his backpack. Unbuckling the main section, he slid the textbooks onto Nigel’s rug. Some were his own, others he had borrowed from the library. Adam had bookmarked the sections that were being covered that week, and summarised some of the text from the one on physics, which he had found particularly verbose and not a good way of explaining fusion reactions at all.

Carefully, Adam moved a few more of Nigel’s belongings aside so that he could arrange the books in the order the subjects ran on the timetable, so Nigel would know which ones to read first. Despite the fact most of his personal effects were all over the floor, Adam decided he liked Nigel’s things. There were a lot of mobile phones, more than he thought was usual for one person to have. They all looked new, some still even in the boxes. But more intriguing were the things that looked a bit worn- there was one of those brain yo-yos that you could do tricks with, and also a magazine on how to fix motorbikes. Poking out from under the bed was some sort of ball of fluff, and on tugging it, Adam saw it was a very old stuffed toy; a sausage dog with floppy ears. It looked almost as chewed as if it _had_ belonged to a dog, rather than Nigel.

Concluding it would be better to return the toy to the spot he found it rather than have Nigel find him playing with it, Adam squeezed it back under the bed frame, next to a more unusual object. Frowning, Adam leaned his face to the floor. It was dark at the edge of the bed, but it looked like a plastic ziplock full of icing sugar. Adam didn’t know why he found it so fascinating, nor did he feel very good about himself after realising he was poking around in Nigel’s private things. Sitting back up, he refocused his attention on the magazine about motorbikes, flipping to a very detailed diagram of engine parts that he quite liked.

Nigel pushed open the door, a glass of Coca-Cola in each hand. Seeing the magazine in Adam’s lap, his mouth fell open in alarm.

“That isn’t mine.”

“Okay,” Adam said hurriedly, not sure why Nigel’s cheeks seemed to be turning a shade more pink. Trying to smooth things over, he tried very hard to think of something funny. “I won’t ask you to fix my bicycle then.”

Nigel was still frozen in the doorway, one side of his lip quirking upward. “What?”

“My… bicycle. I… won’t ask you to fix it. Since you… uh, might not know how to fix other two-wheeled methods of transportation.” Adam flashed Nigel the cover of the magazine, less sure he was making any sense at all, let alone an amusing comment.

On seeing the cover however, Nigel’s whole face seemed to un-crumple with relief, and he gave a low chuckle anyway.

“Shit. Yeah, okay, that’s mine. But don’t ask me to fix your bike, an engine is way different. I mean, I can give it a fuckin’ good shot, but-”

“My bicycle isn’t broken,” Adam piped in, feeling very much like he had over-complicated the situation. “I may have been trying to make a joke. To, um, make you feel better.”

Nigel stared at him, blank. Then, slowly curved to a grin.

“Right. Well. Guess it worked, huh?”

Adam’s tummy did a small flippy-flop. Nigel knelt down beside him, handing him one of the glasses of coke.

“There wasn’t any lemonade.”

“Oh, that’s okay, this is great.” Adam meant it, slurping enthusiastically at the side of his drink before he had a chance to spill any on the carpet.

“Brought you this though,” Nigel winked as he pulled a green plastic bottle from his back pocket. “Case you wanna get real fancy.”

Accepting the offering, Adam frowned as he read the label. _100% reconstituted lime juice. Great for cooking and cocktails._

“You can add it to the coke, if you want,” Nigel explained, hopeful. “And then it’ll taste like lime coke? Which is sort of like lemon coke? Which is sort of like lemonade?”

Adam had never tried a lime coke, and though he strongly suspected that would taste absolutely _nothing_ like lemonade, he appreciated the gesture enough to want to try.

“No stopping you with the homework then?” Nigel made a face toward the tower of books, though Adam thought he was possibly trying to be funny too.

“Something to entertain you when I’ve gone home.” Adam stuck his tongue out a little, focused on measuring out ten lime drops into his drink, which the label recommended for a mojito.

“Don’t let it stress you out,” Adam added a bit more quietly, seeing Nigel emptying a greater volume of the liquid into his own drink than he’d thought there was room. “Just… try your best?”

He wasn’t actually sure that was very helpful advice, but it was something his tutors always said when they were trying to be encouraging, and he thought it might make more sense to Nigel than it did to him.

“Yeah,” Nigel muttered, concentrating rather hard on his drink. “But what if you do that, and it’s still a fucking fail?”

Adam sipped at the edge of his glass, considering. “Ask for help?”

He didn’t understand Nigel’s expression, and for the first time, wasn’t entirely sure Nigel agreed when he gave a curt nod, trying to smile.

“Yeah.”

Adam took another slurp of the soda, trying to figure out if he had made Nigel upset. The end-of-year exams were another topic he’d imagined they could talk about, however looking at Nigel’s face, something made him decide to skip that one. He was just about to comment that the reconstituted lime juice did actually make for a pleasant drinking sensation, when Nigel took a rather large gulp of his own, swallowing just as quickly whilst his eyes watered profusely.

“Jesus fucking-” he put the glass down, though Adam couldn’t understand the rest of his swearing through all the coughing. Adam pulled his bottled water free from the side compartment of his backpack, unscrewing the cap and offering it.

“-m’alright,” Nigel managed, swiping his mouth on the back of his wrist. “Okay. That stuff is fucking awful.”

“I think you just put too much,” Adam giggled, swapping the water for his own glass. “Want to try mine?”

“We’re not sharing a fuckin’ soda,” Nigel laughed, though Adam thought he maybe sounded like he just needed some more coaxing.

“Or maybe you could add some of the icing sugar from under your bed?”

Adam knew he’d said the wrong thing the second it came out. It was Nigel’s room, Nigel’s things, and from the way Nigel jerked to his feet, definitely not one Nigel needed offered to him.

“What the fuck, Adam!”

The phrase sounded a lot different now to when Nigel had first seen Adam outside his house. A lot louder, almost like he was spitting each word. It made Adam’s heart beat a little faster, and he put his drink down, hands unsteady.

“I… I just saw… I… there was a stuffed dog and-”

“Did you take some of that?” Nigel exploded, suddenly looking frightened. “Tell me right this fucking second, did you take any?”

“No, no, I didn’t open it, I promis-”

“Well don’t!” Nigel yelled, his hand movements getting more and more vigorous. “Don’t ever touch my fucking stuff, okay!”

“Nigel, can you please stop shouting?”

Adam could feel his breathing getting quicker, the words and sounds making less and less sense. He tried to cover his ears with his hands, but it only made everything seem to echo more.

“Why are you even here?!” Nigel bellowed. “You don’t even fucking know me, what the fuck do you care whether I do my fucking homework!”

“ _Stop shouting, stop shouting,_ ” Adam chanted under his breath, rocking back and forth.

“I might not even be allowed back into the fucking school!”

Nigel looked like he was just about ready to throw something when Adam did it first, swiping his arm into the neat pile of textbooks and sending them flying across the floor.

“Stop shouting stop shouting _stop shouting!_ ”

Nigel halted mid-inhale, staring at the scattered papers. Adam leapt to his feet, swaying feverishly from side to side whilst caging his fingers through his hair, heels of his hands pressed into his eyes.

“ _Stop shouting stop shouting_ -”

“Adam-”

Nigel’s voice seemed to be coming from very far away, though Adam was almost certain he hadn’t left the room.

“Please look at me-”

Adam couldn’t look at anything except the insides of his eyelids, squeezed so tightly shut that the world looked like stars. Unable to stop moving nor repeating the words over and over, he was taking a shuddering breath when he felt Nigel place a hand on his upper back. Gently, Nigel closed his arms around him, pulling his smaller frame against his chest.

“Adam, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry…”

Just when he thought he couldn’t feel any more ridiculous, Adam stopped mumbling as soon as Nigel had started speaking, some horrible-sounding sob escaping as he realised he was crying instead.

“It’s alright, you’re alright…”

Adam could have sworn Nigel was rubbing his back as he sniffled into his shirt, feeling very much like he was making a terrible mess of everything, but not sure what else to do.

“I threw your textbooks across the room,” Adam choked, filled with regret.

“Darling…” Nigel murmured, not letting go. “…I’ve wanted to do that since you got here.”

Adam stilled for a second, then pulled back, surprised. Nigel was smirking. A bit nervously, Adam thought, but it was enough to make him splutter in some kind of amusement too. Nigel twitched a glance to his left.

“The window’s open, if you wanna help them go a little further.”

Seeing Nigel wink, Adam felt he could have almost laughed.

“I’m sorry I came around unannounced. I do care whether you pass or fail, but that wasn’t why I came.” He paused to wipe his nose on the sleeve of his cardigan, hoping very much that Nigel wouldn’t choose that moment to glance at his shirt. “I… wanted to visit you because I thought we could be friends.”

“Friends.” Nigel repeated, which made Adam wonder if perhaps that wasn’t a dreadfully unfeasible idea after all. He had once seen some of Nigel’s friends behind the sport sheds at school, but most looked a lot older, and he suspected had graduated some years back.

“Yes. Like, sometimes hang out and stuff.”

Nigel sat down at the edge of his bed, tracing his tongue against the front of his teeth as he seemed to be thinking it over. Then he lay back, glaring up at the ceiling as if it could somehow offer some advice on the matter. Noticing some clean takeaway napkins amongst the assorted debris on Nigel’s bedside table, Adam picked his way across the floor to reach them, hoping Nigel wouldn’t mind.

“Guess I could do that,” Nigel muttered, seemingly to no one in particular.

Adam paused halfway through blowing his nose, trying to get a better handle on the statement.

“You guess you could, or you would like to?” He thought his voice sounded a bit funny and muffled, but Nigel propped himself back up, getting the gist of it.

“I would like to.”

“Oh. Great,” Adam beamed. He felt happier than he had all day, despite being fairly exhausted. Nigel smiled back at him, then tried to shake his hair out of his eyes.

“Sure you couldn’t go a vodka? I feel pretty fucking bad about… uh-”

“You don’t need to feel bad,” Adam said quickly. “I’m alright. I can get into a panic, when I get upset. But you didn’t know that. And you apologised.”

“I mean it,” Nigel mumbled, in a rougher voice than before. “Shouldn’t have lost it like that.”

“I know.” Adam stated, which made Nigel’s mouth twitch up at the corner. “But I forgive you. Sometimes friends have misunderstandings. But… I would like to understand you.”

“Yeah…” Nigel said weakly, not knowing where to look.

“At this moment though, I have to get home. I was kind of supposed to be home by six.”

Checking his mobile, Nigel flinched in surprise to see it was almost eight.

“Shit. No kidding. You need me to walk you or anything?”

“No, I’ll be riding my bicycle.” Adam smiled, hoping the next part of the sentence would come out as he intended. “The bicycle that isn’t broken.”

When Nigel grinned, he knew it had.

“Well, text me when you get home or something, yeah?”

“I don’t have a cellular phone,” Adam admitted, scrunching up his nose on recalling the fact. “My parents confiscated it for getting two detentions in a row.”

“Huh,” Nigel swept a hand to the floor, picking up one of the brand new boxes Adam had seen earlier and lobbing it to him. “Now you do.”

Adam was too taken aback to say anything, not having expected a gift of any sort, let alone something quite expensive.

“This too,” Nigel fished a sim card from his pocket, then snatched a pen and scrap of paper off his bedside to write something down.

Adam tucked the sim safely in his jeans, then read the paper. There were two numbers on it.

“The first one’s yours,” Nigel explained.

“And the second one?”

“Mine, Adam.” Nigel raised an eyebrow, looking vaguely embarrassed. “So text me when you get back, right?”

“Right,” Adam nodded, following Nigel back down the stairs. The whole idea of it gave him such butterflies that he doubted he would think of anything else on ride home at all.

As Nigel leant against the front door frame, Adam decided to give him another hug. Since Nigel had already done that, he figured it must be okay. Nigel stood rather stiffly at first, but then squeezed back tighter than he’d done before, pressing his face into Adam’s neck.

“When are your parents getting home? It’s late.” Adam spoke into Nigel’s shoulder, feeling quite flushed as they pulled apart.

“Hm? Ah. Some time.” Nigel stayed put while Adam clipped on his helmet, kicking the standing brake off the bike. “Don’t worry about me. You just take care riding back.”

“I will,” Adam nodded, then took a small gulp of air, knowing if he didn’t ask now, he never would. “Nigel, was that why you were suspended? Did you bring that packet under the bed to school?”

Nigel didn’t look away, or put his hands in his pockets, or yell, or any of the other things Adam might have anticipated as a reaction to him bringing it up again. He held Adam’s gaze, steady.

“No. I know I’ve given you fuck-all reason to believe me, but I never brought that packet anywhere near the school, and I swear to god I never would. I was suspended because our principal said he found weed in my locker. But I don’t smoke any of that shit, and I sure as fuck wouldn’t stash it there if I did.”

“But why would he say that if it didn’t happen?” Adam felt very unsettled by the knowledge, even more so that it didn’t actually strike him as false.

“I don’t know.” Nigel did break his stare then, his face creasing to something Adam didn’t recognise, just as swiftly trying to smile. “I don’t know.”

Adam wheeled his bike to the pavement, giving Nigel a small wave when he got to the gate. Nigel raised a hand in return. He was still standing in the doorway when Adam glanced over his shoulder halfway down the street.

When Adam finally pulled up on his front lawn, before he’d stowed his bike in the garage or even told his parents he was home, he took out the new mobile and fixed it up with the sim. Then he found Nigel’s number, fingers still trembling as he keyed it in.

_I believe you._

_-_


	24. Nigel asks Adam to move in

“Hey, asshole!”

Jogging up the front steps to his apartment, Adam could hear Nigel before he could see him.

“I said long and smooth strokes, keep your hand steady for fucks sake!”

From the looks he received from the elderly couple collecting their mail, it seemed the same might be true for most of the neighbourhood.

“Hello, Nigel,” Adam called through the front door. He could hardly recognise his living room for all the bedsheets covering his furniture. The five or so cigarette-smoking Romanians who peered at him over various ladders were another matter altogether.

Nigel burst from the study, Darko and a very large paintbrush following close behind. His face un-crumpled on seeing Adam, and he ducked a kiss to the smaller man’s cheek, squeezing in for a hug on the side of him that wasn’t splattered eggshell-white.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he growled, then turned to glare at the five sets of eyes that had stopped work just as promptly. “Almost done.”

“Oh, no, there’s no rush,” Adam gave a nervous smile, considering whether the streets of Bucharest might be that much safer whilst his apartment was being repainted. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Keep me company?” Nigel ventured, snatching the cigarette from the teeth of his nearest associate and motioning for the others to follow suit.

“I can do that. But, anything with the task?” Adam walked with him to the kitchen, where his dining table was being used as a potentially hazardous means of reaching the ceiling. Seeing the number of streaks adorning the surface above them, Adam couldn’t help wonder if there was less of a crossover between Nigel and the professional painting profession than his partner may have implied.

“All under control, sweetheart,” Nigel gave a resolute nod, squinting as a droplet of paint caught him under the eye, and trying to grin regardless.

“I’ll make us some tea then.” Adam decided, just as firm. Nigel looked dishevelled enough that Adam doubted he’d even stopped for a smoke break, let alone lunch.

Fidgeting with his sleeves whilst the kettle boiled, Adam watched as Nigel furiously whipped the paint-roller above his head, new drips forming almost as soon as he had smoothed them.

“I guess all this talk of ceiling paint viscosity really is just a marketing tool,” Adam tried, wincing as an incredibly loud clatter and Darko’s subsequent cursing echoed from the other room. Nigel stared back at him, unmoving.

“Pardon, what was that, darling?”

Adam thought Nigel’s voice sounded a shade higher than normal. It was the voice he used when everything was definitely, most certainly and without a doubt all going according to plan.

“Ceiling paint? It’s supposed to have a softer binder and extender pigment, formulated with a greater amount of solids to reduce leaks and splatter when applied to vertical surfaces?” Adam plopped the teabags into the mugs of hot water- two for Nigel, no milk or sugar- then gave a deliberate roll of his eyes. “What a load of nonsense, huh?”

“Huh.” Nigel coughed, staring very hard at the tea Adam was holding out to him.

“Especially given you would’ve already applied a primer, which should assist in creating a bond between the drywall and the paint.” Adam shook his head, offering Nigel a consolatory frown. “Guess sometimes you just don’t get what you pay for.”

“Mm.” Nigel took a vigorous swallow of the tea, then handed it back to Adam just as swiftly. “Well.” He stepped down to the ground, depositing the paint roller and tray on the furthest edge of the kitchen sideboard. “Why don’t we wrap it up for today, and I’ll, ah, voice my complaints to the hardware store tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay,” Adam brightened, unable to pretend he wasn’t pleased. “And tomorrow I’ll definitely be here to lend a hand!”

“No no,” Nigel yelled, disappearing round the corner to shove the rest of his crew out the front door. “No need for that, angel, I promised I’d take care of it.”

Adam pulled himself to sit on the kitchen bench, curious. As Nigel trailed back in, Adam held out his arms for a hug, surprised when his boyfriend flopped all heavy and droopy against him.

“Ni,” Adam spoke into his hair.

Nigel peeked up at him.

“I know how to do long and smooth strokes too you know.” Adam winked.

Nigel laughed, then groaned. “Adam…”

“Not so sure about keeping my hand steady though…”

“I may have to tell you something…”

“…but I really appreciate it.”

Adam squeezed Nigel a bit tighter, not having realised what he wanted to say until he did. Nigel twitched in surprise.

“About that…”

“No,” Adam finished, sincere. “I really appreciate it.”

Nigel blinked and sucked a breath. He took so long to let it out that Adam started to get slightly worried. And even when he did, Nigel still managed to look like he was suffocating.

“Have you ever thought of maybe not living here?”

Adam brimmed to a smile, pinching him at the waist. “Okay, you didn’t stuff up _that_ badly.”

“Right.” Nigel nodded, gave a strangely loud laugh, then quickly cleared his throat. “But what if I did?”

Adam tipped his head to the side. “Did what?”

“What if I fucked up this paint job so badly that you, uh, felt like living somewhere else?”

Adam found himself grinning, completely at a loss for what Nigel was trying to say.

“Okay, how badly are we talking? Like, tidying the edges with solvent badly, or the application of some sort of lead-based formula-”

He trailed off when Nigel flapped his arms, made some incomprehensible noise and grabbed the nearest paintbrush instead. Storming over to the wall opposite, Nigel splashed the surface with the largest and messiest strokes Adam had ever seen in his life.

_Adam. I love you._

Adam mouthed the words under his breath, gazing at Nigel expectantly when he seemed to pause for an inordinate amount of time.

_will you_

Adam sucked at his lip, more and more intrigued. Hands shaking and seeming very much like he was about to collapse, Nigel turned back to the wall.

_move in_

Slowly, Adam’s mouth fell ajar.

_with me?_

Wiping his free hand on his jeans, Nigel looked more flushed than if he’d just painted an entire house.

“Oh my goodness,” Adam gasped, his stare bouncing from the wall to Nigel and back again. “Oh my gosh…”

Nigel scrunched up his face, one eye closed completely, the other barely squinted under his fringe. Adam jumped down from the kitchen bench.

“That’s the wrong paint, isn’t it!”

“What!” Nigel yelped, flinching and accidentally dropping the brush in the process.

“I’m totally kidding.” Adam gave a sheepish grin, ducking round the table to scoop it up. Dipping the bristles carefully into the eggshell white, he added a neat flourish of letters below the ones melting toward the floor, then kissed Nigel like they’d never get another chance.

_Yes._

_-_


	25. Adam calls Nigel Ni-Ni for the first time

“You’ve really never been on a road trip before?”

One hand on the wheel, Nigel was slurping the last of his iced-coffee, pretending a drip of cream hadn’t just fallen on his lap.

“I have not,” Adam said, carefully layering the cup-holders with napkins. Dipping a straw against his iced-chocolate topping, he considered the question, genuinely curious. “Is there something about me that would suggest I might have?”

“Er… no.” Nigel squashed his cup into the driver side door, pulling out a well-thumbed map instead. “Just thought, you know… American thing.”

“I always thought it was a European thing,” Adam wondered, sucking the straw over his tongue.

“A days driving to get anywhere good? Yeah, that’s definitely a European thing,” Nigel chuckled, giving Adam’s unfinished beverage a hopeful glance.

“No, _that’s_ definitely an American thing.” Adam grinned, scooping a decent-sized mound of cream onto the end of the straw and hovering it in Nigel’s direction. Nigel opened his mouth more than enough, and Adam purposefully detoured into his nose regardless.

“Hey!” Nigel spluttered, laughing and trying to lick it off at the same time. “That’s definitely not on the road trip itinerary!”

Adam beamed. “Actually, according to several popular road-based-travel films, you are very much mistaken.” Licking his thumb, he smudged where Nigel had missed.

“Agh! Darling!” Nigel crumpled his nose, swiping his sleeve vigorously over the spot instead.

“I have some more classic road trip suggestions too, if you would like to hear?” Adam squinted as he fiddled with the radio dial, trying to see if anything was in range except static.

“Course I want to hear,” Nigel glanced across at him, surprised.

Adam reached for the map of Romania wedged between Nigel’s knees, tracing the folded edges with his fingertips. Nigel said he’d had it since before he could drive. Which, strangely, made it one of his oldest possessions.

“Well, firstly, we both have to find out something about each other that we don’t know yet. It doesn’t have to be a big thing,” he added quickly, seeing Nigel looking slightly more nervous, “it can be a silly thing. Like, if you were secretly a really amazing ballroom dancer or something.”

Nigel’s mouth dropped open, both eyebrows twitching in alarm. “I am most certainly _not_. Who the fuck… if fucking Darko…”

“Ah, um, let’s start with something easier,” Adam piped in, feeling he may have plunged Darko in some rather unexplainable hot water. “How about I… um… give you a new nickname?”

Nigel looked as confused as when Adam suggested they drive across Bucharest in the first place.

“What was my old nickname?”

“Nigel.” Adam said solemnly, which was enough to make his partner twitch a smile.

“Nigel’s… fairly short though,” he ventured.

“Adam’s fairly short too,” Adam reasoned, more and more excited with the idea. “Shorter than most of yours for me.”

“Well,” Nigel chuckled. Adam thought he looked a little pinker. But then again, it was also sunset.

“I’ll get to work on it then,” Adam concluded, fidgeting the map open across his jeans. They had just passed a sign, and the name of the road wasn’t one he remembered from checking the route that morning. Slowly, he turned to Nigel. “Looks like we’ve already covered number three on my road trip checklist too…”

“Which was?” Nigel’s frown only deepened.

“Wrong turn.” Adam winked. “Some hours ago.”

-

By the time they pulled into the campsite, the iced coffees had long worn off, and Adam had almost finished his third reading of Alexandre Dumas’ _The Count of Monte Cristo_.

“Thought you preferred non-fiction,” Nigel coughed, still hoarse from the ten minutes of shouting at himself that had taken place after the U-turn.

“The story’s actually set during the historical events of 1815-1839, through the reign of Louis-Philippe of France,” Adam smiled, reaching for Nigel’s free hand and giving a squeeze. “There’s a lot of socio-political context, as well as the whole romance, revenge and betrayal plot.”

Nigel’s interest seemed to pique at the last few words, though it was hard to tell when he was so obviously trying not to yawn.

“I’ll set the tent up,” Adam stated, unlocking his door before Nigel had killed the engine.

“Hm? Oh, no no sweetheart, I can help.”

Already equipped with tarpaulin and poles from the trunk, Adam swiftly handed Nigel the flashlight and esky instead, worried what they might end up sleeping in if he got to the instructions first.

“What about _baby_?” he offered, trekking through the underbrush to the no-generators zone. Campers who brought along generators also tended to bring a lot of lights, none of which were conducive for stargazing.

Nigel gave a loud snort, which promptly turned to a yell as his foot sank into the soil, his hand grabbed at the air, and his face landed in the vegetation.

Adam blinked. Nigel spat out a leaf, doing his best to maintain an incredulous expression.

“Do I look like a baby to you?”

Adam held out his hand to pull Nigel up. His partner was no sooner on his feet when the flashlight gave an ominous flicker, then sputtered into nothing. Nigel took a deep breath.

“You look like _my_ baby,” Adam interjected, feeling it was probably too late in the evening for the campsite to welcome a crash-course in Romanian colloquialisms.

Nigel paused, then exhaled just as quickly, a far less decipherable expression crossing his features.

“I am your baby,” he finally mumbled.

Adam beamed, spreading the tent in a clearing between the trees and connecting the poles with the precision of a surgeon. With the flashlight expired, he realised there was more than enough moonlight for the task.

“Did you ever have one before? Like, in school or anything?”

Nigel was rummaging through the esky with curiosity, pulling out muesli bars and an economy-sized packet of trail mix like they were foods from another planet.

“A nickname?”

Frowning, Nigel inspected the zip-lock of powdered condensed milk, shaking a fraction of the substance onto his palm, then dipping a finger of it to his tongue. Grimacing, he decided the rest of their snack foods were better left untouched. “Does Vilkas count?”

“That’s your surname.”

“No kidding.” Seeing Adam had completed the tent, Nigel wasted no time wrestling him into a hug, which made Adam squeal loud enough for both of them.

“It definitely doesn’t count!” Adam managed, trying to stop laughing as Nigel picked him up and threw him onto the sleeping bags.

“How about _asshole_?” Nigel grinned, rough words traced down Adam’s jaw and the side of his neck. “Pretty sure I’ve been called that more than a couple of times.”

“I mean,” Adam breathed, his concentration wavering as Nigel’s mouth somehow undid the top button of his shirt, “a term of friendship… or, um, endearment.”

Goosebumps trickling over his skin as Nigel continued kissing down to his bellybutton, Adam couldn’t pretend he wasn’t pleased his partner seemed a lot less sleepy with their tent all set up.

….even if the door _was_ still unzipped.

-

If Adam was good at putting things together, Nigel was just as good at dismantling them. That was how they ended up with two sleeping bags re-zipped to form a giant one, and a rain fly repurposed into waterproof sheeting for the ground. Adam didn’t mind- he could see the sky a lot better without a screen above him, and Nigel could smoke without having to get up. Well, he’d said he didn’t mind walking further, but Adam didn’t mind either. There was something comforting about the scent of ash and burning paper, sort of like a wood fire on a winter evening. Or maybe it all just reminded him of Nigel.

“I don’t think I have,” Nigel said after a while, nudging closer to the smaller man. When Adam threw him a curious glance, he cleared his throat and started over. “Had, ah… a term of friendship or endearment, that is.”

“Oh.” It seemed like an awfully big realisation to Adam. He wasn’t _surprised_ , exactly. And it wasn’t something that should’ve been sad either. But somehow, just the tiniest bit… it was.

“Hey,” Nigel shuffled around to rest his head at the centre of Adam’s chest. “…sort of a good thing, hm?”

“Is it?” Adam doubted, playing with Nigel’s hair. It was still all tangled and sweaty from the hour spent exploring their new tent, and Adam quite liked the feel of it.

“Be kind of special if you were the first.” Nigel’s voice came out in that coarse tone that usually meant he was ill, or not really used to saying something. “You know I love you more than the world. But you’re my best friend too, you know.”

Adam stared at him in surprise. “Am I?”

Nigel peered up through his fringe. “Yeah.”

Considering his heart was squeezing with happiness, his stomach just as fluttery as when Nigel first said he _did_ love him… Adam had no idea why he also felt like he was about to burst into tears, and redirected his gaze swiftly up to the stars just in case it actually happened.

They lay still until Adam risked a small squint down, Nigel offering a crooked grin. Adam couldn’t help a laugh, his eyes getting even more watery in the process. Nigel was laughing and shaking his head too, decidedly sitting up and pulling Adam into a cuddle.

“Alright, darling, you’ll start me off too in a second…”

“Sorry!” Adam sniffled, feeling he may as well have added ‘ _too late_ ’, from the way Nigel was scarcely leaving room for him to breathe.

“Besides,” Nigel unravelled the sleeping bags around them, pulling himself rather clumsily to his feet. “Something to show you.”

Adam smiled, letting himself be led a half-dozen feet from their campsite, wondering how Nigel could’ve possibly found something to show him, when they’d been together the whole time.

“Okay.” Nigel stopped in a small clearing. It was well beyond the campground, even though their tent was already on the very outskirts. “We’re only doing this once, right.”

“Mm-hm,” Adam hummed, having heard the phrase before some of their now-favourite activities all too many times.

Nigel extended a hand toward Adam, palm open to the sky. “May I have this dance?”

Adam’s mouth fell ajar. The first thought to cross his mind was ‘ _but there’s no music_ ’. The first sound he could utter was-

“ _-yes_.”

Adam reached his hand back. Nigel enclosed it in the rougher fold of his own, bringing their clasped fingers to his lips, kissing just below Adam’s knuckles. Adam placed his other hand at Nigel’s waist. Gently, Nigel moved it up to his shoulder, his opposite palm resting lightly at Adam’s upper back.

“What do I do?” Adam whispered, captivated.

“Just follow me,” Nigel murmured back, taking a step and drawing Adam forward.

Adam replaced his foot where Nigel’s had been. He’d always thought he was a bit awkward when it came to sports and other physical activities, but Nigel didn’t seem to leave an opening for it. His pace was even and measured, slow until Adam realised there was a rhythm, and he wasn’t looking at the ground anymore. He felt balanced- light, even- and for once, not even thinking. He was just moving. They were moving. Together.

Nigel swept him around. Adam barely felt his feet leave the forest floor.

“This is like a fairy-tale,” he trembled, as if saying it louder would break the spell.

Nigel chuckled. “Don’t know if I’m that good…”

But he looked pleased.

“How did you learn to dance like this?” Adam allowed himself a glance at Nigel’s posture, somehow poised and relaxed at the same time. Nigel’s face clouded, and he bumped his jaw against Adam’s cheek, hesitating.

“Took lessons when I was younger…”

“As a hobby?” Adam gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. He was pretty sure he’d had more embarrassing hobbies over the years, the fruits of which had possibly taken up more space in his father’s garage than his car.

“For my wedding.”

The corners of Nigel’s mouth had curved ever so slightly down, his eyes half-pained and half-pleading as they finally met Adam’s. When Adam didn’t respond, Nigel came to a halt, fumbling as Adam’s smaller clasp slipped to his sides.

“I wanted to surprise her by learning the waltz. For our dance. But then… turned out I was alright at it. And… yeah,” he trailed off, grimacing toward his shoes. Adam didn’t think he’d looked near so lost when they were fifty miles in the wrong direction. “Pretty fuckin’ stupid, huh?”

Gently, Adam found Nigel’s hands again, slowly bringing his knuckles to press at his lips. Instead of returning to their previous position, he tucked Nigel’s hand at his shoulder instead, winding his palm to Nigel’s back and clasping the other to lead him. Nigel glanced up.

“I think it’s beautiful,” Adam whispered, guiding him just like Nigel had done. Nigel followed, tentative at first, then, very slowly, let himself smile.

Shifting to stand on tiptoe, Adam pulled him into a soft kiss, still moving all the while. Nigel caged his fingers through Adam’s hair, slightly rougher, warmth lingering as he mumbled toward Adam’s shoulder.

“…thank you.”

Whether it was from lack of focus or all too much of it, a second hadn’t passed before Nigel tripped over his own feet, stumbling into Adam, who caught him at the waist.

“It’s alright, I’ve got you,” he managed, watching a lopsided grin spread across Nigel’s face.

“…is that so?”

Retaking the lead, Nigel swirled Adam around with a flourish, supporting him in a careful dip and back into his arms. Breathless, Adam blinked up at him, his smile turning coy as he hooked his leg at the bend of Nigel’s knee.

“It is.” Smoothly, Adam pulled his leg down Nigel’s trouser, unhinging him at the ankle. Smirk turning to something of surprise, Nigel flailed for Adam’s cardigan.

Adam, who’d been pretty sure he had everything in hand, found himself jerked forward before he had time to steady them, landing squarely on top of Nigel’s chest as they flopped into a pile of soggy pine needles. Thoroughly winded, Nigel couldn’t decide whether he was coughing or laughing, whilst Adam babbled an apology about Nigel being a lot heavier than he looked.

“Uh-huh,” Nigel wrapped both arms around him before Adam could wriggle aside, flipping them over so he was pinning Adam to the ground.

“Ni-Ni, you’re squishing me!” Adam laughed, trying to sound as puffed-out as possible, which seemed to work as Nigel quickly released him.

“Am I?” Guilty, he eased Adam upright, helping to brush a few leaves from his hair until Adam gave a sly wink.

“No.”

With an incredulous snort, Nigel almost had him right back where they started, then suddenly stopped.

“Wait, what did you just call me?”

Not sure why Nigel was looking so surprised, it took a couple of seconds before the moment replayed in his head too, accompanied by a warmth across both cheeks.

“Um. Ni...gel?” He tried, feeling himself blushing worse and worse.

“Mm-hm,” Nigel hummed, grinning wider. “You _sure_?”

“ _Maybe_!” Adam yelped, not quite sure why _he_ was even being so shy. “Depending on your reaction!”

“What reaction? Since nothing happened, apparently!” Nigel made a ridiculous face, cracking up as Adam ducked an affectionate pinch to his side. “Jesus, how long since we’ve slept again?”

“About thirty-five hours,” Adam giggled, looking from his wristwatch to the first rays of sun. “One more and we meet another road-trip milestone!”

Kneading the heel of his hand into one eye, Nigel gave another croaky laugh. “I’ll do my very best, darling.”

Squirming to his feet, Adam held out both hands to pull Nigel up, standing firm even though he knew Nigel wouldn’t tug very hard. “We could take one last spin round the dancefloor, if you’d like.”

“I would,” Nigel murmured, leaning into Adam’s posture all heavy this time. “I think this song’s a slow one though.”

“I think so too,” Adam whispered, resting his head against Nigel’s shoulder.

“And _this_ is definitely the last time we do this,” Nigel yawned, kissing Adam’s neck in between.

“Definitely,” Adam let his fingers trickle over the brim of Nigel’s collar to twine through his hair. “Until next time.”

He could feel Nigel smiling even though he couldn’t see it.

“Ni-Ni?”

“Yes, gorgeous?”

“Nothing.”

Adam smiled back.

-


	26. Adam and Nigel and the time they spoke about Gabi

“I can take it back,” Adam said gently. He meant it. It was no trouble. He’d never been all that keen on surprise gifts himself.

“No.” Nigel, who’d been staring rather blankly at the tickets, glanced up at him in surprise. Placing them face-down on the table, he reached his hand for Adam’s instead. “No…”

Adam squeezed Nigel’s fingers. He didn’t feel quite right smiling, when Nigel looked like he’d been punched in the stomach, but he also wanted Nigel to know that it was completely alright.

“We’ll do something else,” Adam insisted, frowning as he tried to come up with a better idea on the spot. “You know me. Me and new experiences. Me and crowds. Probably for the best. I mean, I might, um, hate it. In fact, I _would_. I would absolutely-”

“Adam-” Nigel leaned down to kiss his knuckles. “You wouldn’t hate it.”

Adam gave a weak grin. Nigel seemed to be staring at the twine of their hands, thumb brushing absentmindedly at the thought.

“You’ve really never been.”

It didn’t sound like a question.

“I’ve also never gone white-water rafting.”

Nigel blinked.

“Well, please fucking don’t?”

Adam tried to hold his breath. It really, definitely wasn’t funny, but when Nigel looked like he’d just squirted lemon juice into one eye like that…

“Ni.” He got to his feet, tugging Nigel up and toward the living room. “We’re getting the blanket and watching the rest of _The Italian Job_. And then tomorrow, I’m swapping them for something else. I can’t promise it won’t be the hardback edition of the Mass-Spectrometer Annual Logs, but-”

Adam shrieked as Nigel pinched him at the waist. As much as his expression resembled a tortured grimace, Adam knew he was smiling.

“I’m sorry,” Nigel muttered after a while, almost inaudible beneath the car-chase scene. Adam leaned into him a little more snugly.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he whispered. “I know it sounds cheesy, but I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy.” Nigel twitched, frowned, then nudged into Adam’s shoulder. “I want us to go. I mean it.”

Adam let his cheek rest on Nigel’s hair. He knew Nigel wouldn’t lie to him. Especially when it came to feelings. But, if Nigel really wanted to see a performance at the Bucharest Opera…

Then why was he crying so much?

-

Adam was mesmerised. The size of it alone was overwhelming, all curtains and swirling balconies, dim lights and deep velvet. They had seats in one of the boxes overlooking the stage, and when Adam peered over, he could clearly see the entire orchestra pit.

He’d been jittery at first, but Nigel had talked a lot, squashing his anxiety with all sorts of useful facts about the architecture and history and types of grand productions that had played there over the years. Adam wasn’t sure he’d in fact _ever_ heard Nigel talk so much at once. Or insist on so many smoking-breaks, glasses of wine and purchases from the memorabilia stand, all in the ten minutes before the thing actually started.

And, now that the first note had throttled the place to silence, Adam could see Nigel was clenching his program so tight that it were about to rip in two. In truth, Adam was worried. Nigel had reassured him that it was all simply excitement, and it didn’t seem fair to keep asking whether the word ‘excitement’, was being used in place of ‘pure horror’.

But, for all and everything… Nigel had been right. Adam didn’t hate it. It was wonderful.

“ _Thank you_ ,” he mouthed to Nigel, nodding toward the stage. The music seemed to swell in time with his heartbeat, prickling at his skin with every change of pace.

His jaw clenched tight, Nigel gave a curt nod.

By the time the intermission came, Adam didn’t want to get up from his seat. He could still hear the echo of it, the thundering crescendo just before the close. Whilst he hadn’t understood a word that had been sung, it was almost a relief not to have to.

“Darling,” Nigel whispered. There was something in his voice that didn’t sound usual. “Are you going to be alright if I step outside for a moment?”

“Of course,” Adam said slowly. “But, I don’t mind getting some fresh air with you either?”

“The interval doesn’t last very long,” Nigel swallowed.

“That’s true.” Adam uncurled the program that had been scrunched between Nigel’s hands. “Luckily, this three-and-a-half hour performance does.”

Nigel flinched a smile, not saying another word until they reached the smoking area. By then, the bell was reminding people to return to their seats. Leaning at the railing, Adam pretended not to hear.

“This place…” Nigel started, speaking toward the rooftops once everyone had left. “I was here all the time.”

Adam nodded. He knew of Nigel’s passion for classical music, and that he sometimes looked twice when they walked past the Opera. That was what gave him the idea for the tickets.

“With Gabriella.”

Adam nodded a bit more carefully. He also knew that Gabi used to play at the Opera. But that didn’t mean that…

“Is being here bringing up bad memories?”

Adam could’ve kicked himself. Why it hadn’t occurred to him that Nigel would associate the location with such a significant part of his past, he didn’t know. But then Nigel shook his head.

“… _good_ memories?”

Nigel stared at him, frowning more and more.

“You’re allowed to have good memories,” Adam said hurriedly. “I… I have heaps of good memories. With Beth. I used to tell you about her all the time.”

That made Nigel chuckle at least.

“I know.”

“Ah.”

Adam pinched a guilty smile, then leaned in to give Nigel a hug. Nigel’s arms still hung limp by his sides, but he let his cheek dig against Adam’s brow.

“Can I tell you something?” Nigel murmured eventually.

“You can tell me anything,” Adam pulled back a fraction to see him better.

“This is where I proposed.”

“Right _here?_ ” Adam blurted, staring around the smoking area in astonishment.

“ _No_ ,” Nigel snorted again. Adam scrunched his nose, then grinned as Nigel decided he wanted to return the hug after all. “Inside the Opera. After the standing ovation. I didn’t even mean to do it, I just picked up one of the roses and marched straight into the middle of the orchestra pit, and-”

Adam was staring, eyes watering.

“ _Fuck_. I shouldn’t be spouting this shit.”

“No,” Adam said quickly. “No, no, it’s just that-”

Nigel’s face had already crumpled in regret.

“-that it does sound like a really good memory,” he finished softly. He didn’t let go whilst Nigel stared into the darkness, thoughts spun between the stars.

“You wouldn’t have had a ring?” Adam tried, smiling into Nigel’s collar. Nigel peeked down at him, mouth twitching at one side.

“I used to wear one. Thought that would have to do.”

“And… what did she say?”

Nigel’s eyes creased at the corners, one eyebrow raised. He inhaled, only slightly shaky now.

“In English, it would translate to, _Nigel, you are the greatest embarrassment I have ever known_ ,” he smirked as Adam laughed, “ _and let me never love again_.”

Adam was almost sure his lips had parted ajar.

“Oh, Ni…” he whispered.

Nigel let out whatever breath he had been holding, hands clutched into the back of Adam’s cardigan.

“Did it fit?” Adam managed, cheek squeezed against Nigel’s chest.

“ _No!_ ” Nigel spluttered, “but Gabi never let me buy another one.”

Adam grinned, Nigel looking ever more hopeless while he tried not to laugh.

“I’m happy you told me…” Adam grazed a kiss against Nigel’s throat. “Even if this story totally upstaged the opera performance.”

“Good,” Nigel mumbled. He glanced around as if suddenly noticing the space was devoid of patrons. “But, we’re going back in, right?”

“Only if you want to,” Adam said gently. “Or, we could stay out here and talk some more. I’d like that.”

“You’ll miss the ending,” Nigel huffed, cross with himself.

Adam shook his head, weaving their hands together as they stared out over the city.

“The ending isn’t everything.”

-


	27. Adam and Nigel talk business and bad guys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So, this one is written as a request for a situation where Adam has a panic attack at the worst possible time, and also when Nigel wasn’t in a very good mood. I really enjoyed taking a swing at it, and here’s what I came up with! (If you squint, ever-so-slightly dark!Adam?? ^^;;)
> 
> Thank you so so much for reading, and if you ever have a request for a situation (now or whenever really!) you would like to see in this series, everyone is always totally welcome to leave it in the comments on any of the chapters, or send me a tumblr ask!! *^^* I love flailing about these two, so, even if you are as ridiculously shy and awkward as me (that may not be possible tho :>), I adore writing and would totally do you a thing!
> 
> But even if we haven’t said hi yet, I just want to say thank you so much to everyone who has left kudos, a comment or subscribed to these ficcys, it means the world to me! :D <3<3 I hope you enjoy and see you again very soon for something super fluffy and goopy!! =P

-

Nigel pushed through the crowd to reach him. The strobe lights bent the space wild and fractured, Adam’s heart pounding rabid at his throat. If Nigel had looked tense before he left for work, he looked positively ghastly now.

“What the… _what are you doing here?_ ”

Adam knew it was Nigel’s attempt to use his soft voice. Over the backfire of the sound-system, it still sounded like they were trapped in the middle of a shooting gallery.

Adam shook his head. It wasn’t one of those panic attacks where he could move or shout or soothe himself. It was one where everything felt like it were closing in, where sounds didn’t connect to ideas to be decoded, and he couldn’t even begin to translate his own to words.

Nigel clenched his jaw in acknowledgement, more and more desperate as Adam hunched into himself. He made the question sign with his hands- _touch or no-touch?_

Adam managed the response they had agreed on- _can you hold me?_

Nigel’s posture seemed to uncoil a fraction, or at least, it was clear he needed a hug too. He wrapped his arms around Adam’s back, holding the smaller man against his chest. The pressure and warmth of Nigel’s body was a relief, quiet and grounding when everything else was noise and light.

“I need to get you somewhere else,” Nigel muttered, cheek grazing against the side of Adam’s face. 

Adam gave a flinch of a nod as Nigel grimaced toward the neon-lit exit sign. It was further away than either of them would’ve liked, and Adam felt dizzy by the time Nigel kicked the door ajar. The alleyway was hardly less crowded than the club, the air bitter with nicotine and whatever trash hadn’t been collected the night before.

“I don’t understand.” Nigel’s fingers were clumsy as he rubbed Adam’s shoulders, seemingly unconvinced he was still in one piece.

“You… were very stressed before you left,” Adam sniffed. Strangely, the scent of smoke was actually making him feel calmer, though he could probably have done without the rubbish bins. “And then, a lot of time passed. And I began to worry that something had gone wrong.”

Nigel sucked a breath through his teeth.

“Gone wrong?”

“With your business. Maybe with whoever it was you had to meet.”

Nigel fumbled for his cigarettes, cursing and dropping half the pack down the gutter in the process.

“Adam-”

Nigel paused for a long time, which Adam knew meant he was trying not to say the wrong thing. Adam reached for him. They loved each other. There was no wrong thing.

“-do you have any _fucking_ idea how dangerous this place is?”

Adam exhaled, slow. He wanted to smile, but it was the kind of smile that would have also broken his heart.

“Yes.”

Nigel glanced up. It was hard to tell whether he was surprised, ashamed, or relieved beyond what either of them had in words.

“I know you don’t own a nightclub for your love of the entertainment and hospitality industries.”

At that Nigel did manage a weak laugh. And it _was_ the kind of gesture that broke Adam’s heart.

“Then,” Nigel swiped a wrist to his nose, suddenly looking far more exhausted than he had the whole evening. “Do you also know how much it fucking _terrifies_ me, to think that any of the people who walk through these doors to see me, might end up seeing you instead?”

“Yes,” Adam said quietly.

Nigel frowned.

“It’s frightening,” Adam whispered, “when you can’t plan what everyone else will do.”

Nigel glared toward the ground.

“I’m not sorry for trying to find you,” Adam said, hoping he could explain better. “I _do_ wish I didn’t get overloaded, because, that isn’t helpful if you were in trouble. But now I know what to expect, which means I can be more prepared for next time.”

Nigel’s eyes widened, so Adam quickly hurried through the last of it. 

“Because one day you might be the one who needs help. And I’m not going to be the one who finds out when the police knock on our door to tell me.”

He had said it so matter-of-factly that Nigel could only stare.

“That shouldn’t be something you have to think about,” he said softly.

“It is,” Adam said. He took Nigel’s hand. “If we’re doing this, it is.”

Nigel tipped his head back, slouching against the brick wall behind them. He faced the sky for a long time like that.

“What the hell would you have done, Adam…” Nigel’s eyes had glazed over, his throat dry and empty. “If I had been in trouble. What do you think would happen-”

Adam waited, Nigel looking increasingly ill.

“-if you had to face up to someone like me?”

Adam shivered. Now that his heart rate had returned to normal, he realised his t-shirt was drenched in sweat.

“I’m… not sure,” he admitted, swallowing. “But I think that might be something else I want to prepare for.”

Adam was glad of Nigel’s arms around him for the second time that night, even if he did seem unable to mediate the difference between a cuddle and suffocating him.

“Hey,” Adam gave a helpless glance to his soaked shirt. “I’m gross. And _sticky_. And-”

“-I’m not sorry you came to find me.” Nigel pressed his face into Adam’s neck. “But I _never_ want you to-”

“If it makes it any better,” Adam coughed, tapping Nigel on the shoulder for him to loosen-up the tiniest bit. “If anyone you deal with is anything like you, they’d already know my face whether I visit or not.”

Nigel pulled back, incredulous.

“You think that might make me feel _better?_ ”

As awful as it all was, Adam still managed a sheepish grin.

“Jesus,” Nigel chuckled, still rather shaky. “Now that we’ve covered my illegal operation, impending demise and the possibility of you being stalked…”

Adam counted the items off on his fingers, agreeing.

“…can I maybe take both of us home for the night?”

Adam looked toward the flickering neon sign, wondering if it might’ve been better business to leave through the front. When he turned the other way, he was pretty sure Nigel was only considering if it were too soon to ask for a third hug.

Adam nodded. He knew they’d have to talk about the club some more. And the trade. And the city. _Their_ city. But for now…

A third hug sounded pretty good.

-


	28. Adam and Nigel’s week of clothes swapping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, one of the fluffiest things I can think of, is Adam and Nigel playing the “I’ll make you blink first” game, and both being way too good (or terrible!) at it! Also, clothes swap. :D

-

**_Monday_ **

Nigel stumbled into the kitchen, several cigarettes and espressos too early. Adam smiled up from the table, already halfway through his toast and some online article about the density of… _extrenscopmatter?_ Nigel squinted at the screen, arms slung roughly around Adam’s chest as he leant down for a hug. _Extranscopicmabadoodle?_

…fuck it.

He kissed Adam’s hair, breathing in the soapy scent until it made his nose itch. Which is when he realised…

Adam was wearing his shirt?

Nigel blinked. Adam was already reabsorbed in scrolling the wall of text, taking a methodical bite from his jam-on-multigrain. Nigel walked around the counter for coffee, trying not to curse as his attention wandered and half of it splashed over his wrist. 

Adam had very specific tastes. His wardrobe was organised by colour and preferred outfits for each day of the week. They never got mixed-up- Nigel’s stuff was too big for Adam anyway. But... it was definitely one of his. Adam didn’t own any black collared shirts. He’d even rolled the sleeves up so they didn’t fall over his hands.

Nigel slouched against the cupboards, eyes narrowing. 

It all… looked kind of good.

Adam pushed back his chair. It was one of his early-morning starts at the observatory. Nigel’s stare followed as Adam tucked his plate and mug into the dishwasher, an eyebrow raised as the smaller man stood on tiptoe for a goodbye kiss.

Nigel waited.

Nothing.

He could’ve _sworn_ Adam was trying not to grin as he walked out the door.

-

**_Tuesday_ **

Adam replaced his sneakers on the shoe rack, still catching his breath. He’d been trying to decide whether a jog worked better in his morning routine or after work, and so far his muscles were telling him neither.

But Nigel was up at least. Adam checked his wristwatch. Before _seven?_ Were they being burgled?

Adam peered into the kitchen.

“Morning baby,” Nigel murmured, voice still husky from sleep. He gave a crooked smile, jerking his chin to the blender on the counter. “Made you a smoothie.”

Adam beamed. Nigel really was the best smoothie-maker.

“Thank-”

He nearly dropped it mid-pour, staring at the enormous book Nigel had open on the table. Adam had assumed he was reading the newspaper, not _Autonomous Astrometeorology in Practice_.

“-are you?”

Nigel glanced up, then fumbled with a button on the cardigan he was wearing.

Adam’s cardigan.

“Am I…?” Nigel sniffled, staring back blankly.

Adam took a large gulp of the blueberry and protein mixture.

“Are you… finished with that?” Adam managed, affixing Nigel’s empty smoothie glass with his most serious expression. Nigel picked it up, considering.

“Mm. Think so. Cheers, gorgeous.”

Adam rinsed it in the sink. He had never seen Nigel focus so intently on a book in front of him in his life. It also kind of looked like Nigel was biting his tongue. And also trying not to breathe.

But then again, _Autonomous Astrometeorology in Practice_ really was a wild read.

-

**_Wednesday_ **

Nigel pulled apart the sock drawer, making more of a mess trying to line everything up then when he’d tipped it over the floorboards.

“Darling, have you seen my-”

Nigel swung round into the kitchen, hair tangled and wet over his eyes, shirt still half-unbuttoned.

Adam looked round from the fridge, pen still in hand from updating their weekly planner, lid sucked thoughtfully between his teeth. 

Nigel paused.

“-your?” Adam gave him a hopeful smile, reaching his sleeve to mop up the droplets that were tracing down Nigel’s jaw.

Nigel cleared his throat. On Adam’s wrist was a heavy gold cuff. On his finger a gold signet ring. And around Adam’s neck was Nigel’s gold chain, which he hadn’t actually realised was quite so godawfully conspicuous, but then again, he usually wore it _inside_ his shirt.

“My… phone.” Nigel coughed.

“Oh.” Adam said lightly, glancing around the room. He scrunched his nose, then finally brightened on noticing it. “Yes! I have.”

“Where?”

“In your hand.”

****-

**_Thursday_ **

Adam was almost done with the finishing touches on the soup when Nigel made an appearance, still yawning whilst trying to say hello.

“I made that thing they used to sell at the deli.” Adam said happily, the pepper and salt and chilli already making his eyes sting.

Nigel dropped his gaze to the bowls on the table.

“The Romanian place?” he said softly, hand reaching for Adam’s.

“Yes.”

Adam squeezed his fingers. He knew Nigel preferred eating the kind of breakfast that would most likely cause indigestion and make his tongue numb for the whole day. And though Nigel hadn’t made a big deal when the deli had closed…

Adam knew he missed it.

“You…” Nigel shook his head, still standing in surprise. “Thank you…”

“It’s going to get cold, while you’re staring at it.” Adam blushed, trying not to squirm with pleasure.

Nigel grinned, stuck his tongue out, then mouthed _thank you_ again before he tried to sit down.

_Tried_ to.

It was only then Adam saw Nigel was in fact wearing his whole work outfit, complete with spacedome-t-shirt, name badge, and Adam’s khaki trousers that fit so tight that Nigel could only take very small steps. And even that looked dangerous.

Adam frowned to keep from giggling, moving both bowls up to the counter as Nigel failed to stifle a laugh.

“We’d better eat it like did in Romania…”

“Very quickly?” Nigel snorted.

“Standing up,” Adam winked.

-

**_Friday_ **

“Baby, can you pop in for a sec?”

Adam could hear him banging around the bedroom. It sounded a lot like Nigel had rearranged the whole room, which wasn’t all that uncommon with Nigel getting ready for work.

“Could you… take a quick look out here instead?” Adam pinched his nose, trying to keep his voice level.

“Uh-huh, but you really gotta see this first!”

“I will! But… this thing in the kitchen is super interesting, I promise!”

“Got it! But _this_ thing in the bedroom is fucking insane, I don’t want you to miss it!”

Adam took a deep breath, trying to think of the most serious of subject matter possible.

_Black holes. Convex mirror equations. When a biscuit falls in your tea._

He reached for the bedroom door at the exact same time Nigel wrenched it open. They stared at each other.

Adam was wearing Nigel’s dachshund shirt, leather motorbike pants and heavy boots, his helmet clutched in one hand. Nigel was wearing…

Adam’s entire astronaut suit.

“Ready to take that walk down to the cafe?” Adam choked, his face aching from trying to keep it straight.

“Absolutely,” Nigel managed, his voice sounding rather strangled. “Can’t wait.”

“Good. Because I’m really… feeling like some fresh air.” Adam made it to the front door.

“Fresh air. Definitely.” Nigel marched right behind, his face gritted with determination.

Adam locked the door behind them, setting a brisk pace down the stairwell, an even brisker one down the street. Nigel stormed alongside, glaring unblinking at the horizon until his eyes watered.

“Jeepers I’m looking forward to a hot chocolate!” Adam squeaked, his steps in Nigel’s oversized boots sounding like an assault team was traversing the pavement.

“Mm. Coffee would go down well.” Nigel agreed, exchanging a curt nod with several joggers who had stopped to gape at the spacesuit.

They had made it the whole length of the street before Adam felt fit to burst, doubling over with silent giggles as Nigel’s smirk grew wider and wider.

“Oh my god, Ni,” Adam spluttered, more tears of laughter accumulating ever time he wiped them.

“Yes?” Nigel tried, rubbing a hand over his mouth as his face flushed to a grin. 

Adam made some strange kind of wail he tried to talk and breathe and laugh at once, which sounded so ridiculous that Nigel started shaking with non-laughter and waving his hands around to try and get Adam to stop.

Which of course only made it worse.

“Fucking hell…” Nigel was wiping his eyes too, bent from the waist as he failed to catch a breath.

“Want me to make us coffee at home?” Adam gasped, feeling very much like he’d just done a few hundred sit-ups.

Nigel scooped him into a hug, so tight that he lifted the smaller man clear off the ground.

“No way.” Nigel laughed, lightheaded himself as he set Adam down. He threw an arm around Adam’s shoulders. “If you’re up for it, I’m all in.”

Adam beamed, wrapping his own around Nigel’s waist.

“Roger that.” Adam gave his most solemn nod toward the cafe, trying not to set them off all over again. It didn’t work. It didn’t matter. “I’m all in.”

-

**Thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed the double-shot weekend, next up will be Chapter 4 of the Spacedogs Breakfast Club AU, which now continues as a[full-length fic and art project!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6661486) **

** Over and out!<3 **

-


	29. Nigel’s never had a bad date. Adam’s happy to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here’s a story... *^^*;; This ficlet literally started about 5 months ago, after chatting with TigerPrawn about drunk!Adam :D And then when @hannibalcreative announced the #drunkenkisseschallenge, I (finally?!) wrapped it up! So, occasionally 1k can happen in 30mins, aaand then occasionally it takes two prompts and half a year in the making… for Adam to get the tiniest bit drunk. =P

“Okay, here’s one.”

Adam was dabbing the final accents of black onto the Space Shuttle Discovery model. Nigel kept squeezing and un-squeezing the paint tube, watching the acrylic swell and ebb at the cap with peculiar fascination.

“What’s the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you on a date?”

Nigel paused, squinting to one side. Finally he scrunched his nose, disappointed.

“Surprisingly, I’ve got nothing?”

“Really?” Adam pinched his tongue between his teeth, concentrating on the edge of the delta wing. “You haven’t even… I don’t know, spilt a drink on someone’s shirt or anything?”

“Not by accident,” Nigel grinned.

“Gotten drunk and blurted out something silly?”

“Not that I remember.” Nigel gave a hopeless shrug. “Which may not be a good thing.”

“You were out of pocket for dinner? Your credit card bounced!”

Nigel nudged the pallet of assorted whites closer, indicating where the booster rockets were missing a spot.

“Darling…” he gave an affectionate smirk, “guys like me always carry cash.”

“Right,” Adam pinpointed his brush tip below the factory joint, darting an extra seam along the line. “You haven’t, like, forgotten a name? Tripped in front of the Maître-d’? Ordered something really spicy by mistake and spent the whole meal trying not to look like you’re crying or have some kind of terrible cold?”

Nigel snorted a laugh. “I’m starting to feel like I’m missing out here.”

Leaning back to admire their efforts on the craft, Adam gave a guilty smile. 

“Okay, fine. For once I’ve managed to beat you.”

Nigel reached for the paint-tube lid, absentmindedly pinching below the nozzle one last time. The tube gave an unexpected splutter, jetting a spray of black across Nigel’s cheek. Adam blinked, trying not to giggle.

“Have you ever-”

“- _no_.”

“Just sayin’.” Adam winked. “Accidents happen.”

-

The following evening, Nigel arrived on their apartment doorstep to find he’d left his keys inside. Strange, since he was almost certain he’d been the one to lock-up when they left together that morning.

“ _Shit._ Adam?” 

Nigel gave a gentle knock. Adam usually didn’t get home from the observatory for another hour, but he could hear shuffling and banging inside the apartment.

“Hold on… coming!”

Nigel stuffed his hands in his pockets, half-frozen already. Adam pulled back the door, beaming.

“Oh, super, you made it! Neil, is it?”

Nigel raised an eyebrow, wondering exactly how loud he was setting the soundsystem at the club these days.

“Neville? Nial?”

Slowly, Nigel’s mouth twitched up at the corner. He cleared his throat, then slouched against the doorframe.

“ _Nigel_. I… uh. Sorry I’m late. Couldn’t find the place.”

“Not at all,” Adam ushered him in, fussing to take his coat. “I know it’s not as fancy as a restaurant. But, since it’s our second date, I wanted to do something special.”

“Oh yeah? I’m up for that.” Smiling, Nigel let himself be led him into the living room, trying his best to spot anything out of the ordinary.

“Great.” Adam patted the rug in front of the television, inviting Nigel to sit. Then, he picked up the remote, aiming it at the DVD player. “Because I have the entire chronology of the NASA STS-41-D, otherwise known as the Space Shuttle Discovery logs, all lined up and ready to watch.”

Nigel stood rooted to the spot.

“I think I left something at work. Something urgent. Fire. Something is on fire.”

When he flickered a tiny grin, Adam burst into giggles, then drew out salt, sliced lemon, two glasses and a bottle of tequila from behind a pile of books. He set them down in front of the screen.

“Let me explain a little more thoroughly. I thought for tonight’s date, we could get to know each other better via the traditional method of drinking until things get awfully messy.”

Nigel made himself comfortable on the carpet, legs sprawled in front of him.

“No romantic home-cooked dinner then?”

“Eating is cheating.” Adam confirmed. “Now. I’m going to play this video. Every time the voiceover mentions the name of the spaceship, _Discovery_ , I have to drink. Every time we hear the name of a person, star, planet, galaxy or constellation, you have to drink.”

“Sounds fair,” Nigel smirked, stretching both arms above his head. Adam pressed play.

_“Inertial measurement alignment complete. We show two-eight degrees, three-six minutes, three-zero point three-two seconds north, by eight-zero degrees, three-six minutes one-four point eight-eight seconds west. Discovery, over.”_

Adam paused the recording, then measured himself a shot of tequila. It was strong enough that Nigel’s eyes stung from where he sat. Where on earth did Adam get that thing?

“Bottoms up,” Adam saluted him, then knocked back the liquor in one. Nigel flinched in surprise, but Adam didn’t make a sound, his eyes merely watering to the brim as he gave a thumbs-up. Sucking a slice of lemon, he hit the play button again.

_“The orbital manoeuvring system has been pressurized. The cabin pressure has been checked and is normal at 16 point 7 PSI. The cabin will now be vented. Eight minutes to Discovery liftoff.”_

Adam paused the tape again, cheeks slightly pinker as the tipped the second shot.

“A quick game’s a good game, right?”

He sprinkled some salt onto his hand whilst Nigel looked nervously on. Swallowing the tequila without skipping a beat, Adam held his breath and tried not to cough immediately after.

“Uh… maybe we could grab some sodas as a chaser?” Nigel tried. Adam simply waved a hand in protest, his other swiped below his nose.

“Absolutely not! I’m fine, just feeling a bit emotional and also recovering from a terrible cold. Hence the lemon!”

Nigel tried to keep a straight face and failed. Sniffling, Adam reached for the remote.

_“The automatic ground launch sequencer has started. The three auxiliary power units which power the Orbiter's hydraulic system for operation have been started. Discovery, this is Control.”_

Adam stopped the tape in horror. Nigel stifled a chuckle.

“Alright, gorgeous, I think we’re gonna have to fast forward to when they actually _get_ into space, otherwise this is going to be a much worse date for you than me.”

“Nonsense!” Adam blurted. “I may have to ask you to pour the next serving for me, but I will be drinking it or my name isn’t Adam Raki!”

“Fuck.” Nigel grinned. “Glad you said that, could’ve sworn your name was Andy.”

Giggling, Adam picked up the tequila and glass, passing both to Nigel. Fumbling, the bottle somehow slipped from his grip before they’d managed it, liquid splashing wildly over Nigel’s shirt and trousers.

“Shoot!” Adam looked up, breathless. “Sorry! That one actually wasn’t planned!”

“Accidents happen…” Nigel shot him a wink, setting the bottle out of Adam’s reach. “And you did promise me a messy night.”

“Can I make good on my first promise too?” Adam wriggled forward, knees bumping against Nigel’s damp trousers, then gently straddling his lap.

“Of… getting to know each other better?”

Soft, Nigel grazed his thumb over the flush at Adam’s cheeks, then leaned in. The kiss was salty and clumsy from the tequila, Adam’s tongue deep and playful. Nigel licked over his lower lip as they drew apart, wetness lingering warm on his chin.

“Oh my gosh,” Adam mumbled. “I just kissed you really sloppily, didn’t I?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Nigel hummed, nudging a bit closer. “Maybe we should do it again, just to be sure.”

Adam pressed against his lips, his tongue all pert and teasing. Then, with a sudden glint, licked Nigel’s face from his jaw to his eye, leaving him wet and blinking and stunned. Adam smiled.

“How about now?”

Nigel play-wrestled him to the ground, Adam shrieking all the while.

“Well that settles it,” Nigel let himself be pinned, laughing too much to do much else. “Now we’re _definitely_ having a third date.”

-

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! <33 
> 
> Comments and requests are always adored and appreciated! (or say hello to me on [tumblr!](http://taeaelin.tumblr.com/) *^^*)


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